


Anti-Hero

by purplepop96



Series: Sorceress [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Daughter, Dark Comedy, Death in Childbirth, Deviates From Canon, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Illegitimacy, Light Bisexual Energy, Loki is a Good Dad, Major Original Character(s), Multi, Origin Story, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Parent Loki (Marvel), Parenthood, Past Relationship(s), Protective Loki (Marvel), Relationship(s), Single Father, Single Father Loki, Single Parent Loki, Single Parents, The Tesseract (Marvel), Unplanned Pregnancy, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 62,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26047003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplepop96/pseuds/purplepop96
Summary: After the death of his lover, Loki must navigate his life and ambitions while being a single father to his baby daughter, Eira. Focusing on his desire to become king and give his daughter a good life, Loki explores the line between villainy and virtuosity. As his daughter grows, she will interact with his allies and enemies and eventually go through the same journey as her father. An exploration of Loki's role as a father and the origin story of Eira, the father-daughter duo voyage through the Marvel Cinematic Universe (Infinity Saga) with slight variations. Sequel to "Snow and Sun".
Relationships: Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Jane Foster/Thor, Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Series: Sorceress [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879774
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her unprecedented beauty, the selflessness of her heart, surely a stubborn being as myself did not deserve her love. As I felt her embrace, I forgot my hubris, my forever-growing superiority to commoners. 
> 
> I was honored to have her consider me her family. I was glad to have her as the mother of my child. Both announced months after our first confessions of love, but it felt right.
> 
> I remember the first moment we had as a true family. Our little girl wrapped in a blanket, cuddled by her exhausted mother who somehow held a warm smile. No longer was my contact with her limited to the touch of my lover's stomach. I could finally interact with my daughter. Me and Runa could aid our little Eira together.
> 
> It was one of the only moments in my life where I embraced optimism. Perhaps that is why I was unprepared for the bittersweetness.

Physical strength is the most valued trait in the realm of Asgard. Prince Loki Odinson was stronger than most but enervated in comparison to other warriors. His powerful magic, battle skills with his dagger, incredible intelligence, and handsome face should have been respected, but some would best describe Loki as a second thought. A cruel statement, even for Loki's mischievous standards.

Perhaps if Loki was not the youngest child and his older brother was the embodiment of the perfect Asgardian, then he might have had more veneration and popularity. His own father doted over Thor more. In the training grounds when they were children, the All-Father was demonstrating the most effective battle techniques to Thor, while Loki struggled to keep up. The younger god did learn how to fight, but due to the long time it took for him to reach that skill, it was never celebrated.

Magic had a lengthy history in Asgardian culture. Frigga, Loki's mother, had taught him magic when he was three. She had seen Loki struggling with learning how to fight. Figuring that teaching the young boy magic would help him in battle, Frigga decided to spend more time with her younger son, balancing the acts of her husband. Loki was a true prodigy with sorcery, which made his mother proud. He was also remarkably smart, never once struggling with academics. That part of his life was praised, but it only lasted for eighteen. With tutoring over and a focus on fighting, Loki was no longer lionized.

At the age of 1,039, Loki met a new servant at the palace. She was a beautiful young woman, but she was not the age of most new servants. She was around his age, deciding a new career at the age was unheard of. Though they never spoke in their first meeting, Loki was surprised that he remembered her. Her curly dark blonde hair and light green eyes were wide in shape. She was much shorter than the average Asgardian, Loki inferred that he was a foot taller than her, but that did nothing to distract from her beauty.

It took another year for Loki to see her again. A complete accident, Loki stumbled upon the servant while she was in the palace gardens. Her name was Runa Brandtsdottir. He was finally able to have a conversation with her. Loki did not learn much about Runa, but she did mention having a tense relationship with her father. That comment enthralled Loki; he had never met anyone who also struggled with their father. Their talk ended abruptly, with a sudden kiss making Runa leave the gardens.

Two weeks later, Loki came across Runa, once again coincidental. Runa was hesitant to talk, as she was a servant and he was a prince, she believed they should start a romantic relationship. Even though they had not spoken much, Loki felt a connection with her. So, they began a conversation, where Runa confessed to enjoying the kiss but was scared of the consequences. Loki understood her fears and normally he would have agreed not to pursue a relationship. But his feelings for Runa were different than those from his past romances. Out of character, Loki stated that he did not care what others thought. He confessed to having developed feelings for her and wanted to start a romantic relationship.

Runa had never had amorous feelings for anyone, but her various meetings with Loki made her intuit romantic emotions. She had wondered why a prince was falling in love with but upon Loki's explanation of his feelings, it all made sense. He truly had genuine feelings for her, and it made Runa feel wanted.

After they finished talking, the two leaned into a kiss. A few minutes in, clothes were coming off and they each gave one another their constant. Passionate sex occurred in Loki's chambers that night.

Some point in the night, the love-making had stopped and Loki laid on his bed naked with Runa on top of him, their chests against one another. He was surprised it took him this long to notice how large her breasts were, as he could feel their warmth transferring to his sweaty body. The size and shape of her body weren't important, he thought. All that mattered was her mind and actions.

Stroking Loki's shoulder, Runa looked up into the god's deep green eyes.

"Please tell me this was not a one-night occurrence. I want to see you again. Maybe we can talk more and not have sex right away. Perhaps a walk around the kingdom, or a nice meal. Whatever you think will work."

Loki smiled as he stroked Runa's curly hair. He kissed her ruby lips before responding to her request.

"A date with you sounds lovely."

* * *

Other members of the royal family soon discovered Loki's relationship. Odin was initially upset and upon confronting Loki, he was surprised by how unashamed his youngest son was. The prince admitted that he was proud to be in love with Runa and how he did not care that she was a servant. It did not matter what his family thought of his love life, Loki had real feelings for Runa that he refused to let go of. It was that statement that made his family decide to respect his romantic relationship.

The more time they spent together, the more Loki learned about Runa. She was a year and a half away from turning one thousand. Her father was a warrior with strict values and beliefs. He had wanted to have a son, but his first-born was a daughter. He and his wife had tried for decades to have another child, but Runa remained an only child. Part of the reason was that her father believed men to be superior to women and he wanted a warrior to continue his legacy. The other reason, well, Runa never told anyone, not even Loki.

Her mother had a hidden ability as a skriver, the power to read any language by looking at a simple sentence and can even speak it after reading or hearing it for a bit. Asgard had some in its beginning, but it was thought that they went extinct after they were targeted by other nations. Only women inherited this ability from their mothers. Runa's mother had wanted to end the power of skrivers, but her daughter contradicted that plan. Fearing that Loki would report her or regret her love, Runa kept her ability a secret. Even if Loki was a very accepting and understanding lover, she could not take the risk.

Besides her hidden talents, Runa was very open with Loki about her past. Her parents and other members of her family became colder to her as she got older. She was very short for an Asgardian and although she had the race's signature physical strength, she was weak compared to others. Focusing on what she was good at, Runa was a model student when she was young and enjoyed literature. Originally thinking that her intelligence would make her family proud, she was sadly mistaken when they cast their disappointed looks upon her.

After hundreds of years of neglect, Runa planned to run away. For years she hid her plan from her family, knowing that despite their dislike of her, they would find a way to stop her. The only way she could successfully leave was to work and live somewhere far away from her current home. Furthermore, she needed a place where it would be difficult to locate her. She would have to lie about her age since most workplaces only accepted Asgardians of a young age. Falsehoods about her family life were also required, as others could trace her back to her soldier of her father and make her return.

Runa finally decided to work as a servant at the palace. She knew how to clean well and would be well-hidden among the hundreds of other servants. So, after years of faking documents and training for the job, she ran away from home. While her parents were not at their house, she escaped during the night with no hints of where she was going and not one note of why she left. The hate she received from her family made Runa decide to not tell them anything afterward. They did not deserve it.

It was the similarities in their situations that furthered the connection between Loki and Runa. Both had issues with their fathers. Though Loki still cared about his father and wanted his adulation, they were still problems with neglect. Runa comforted her lover whenever there were fights with his family. She was very patient and said whatever Loki wanted to hear. However, as she became more comfortable with his presence, she became more honest with him. Loki did not like it when someone was brutally honest with him, but he valued Runa's opinion and knew she was only saying it to make him a better person.

The couple's relationship had been going incredibly smooth for the past six months. Runa had become friends with those of Loki's. She was close to Sif, as the latter was happy to have another female friend to complain about men, and Runa was pleased to listen and offer some of her own tales. Thor was also kind to Runa and often asked her how Loki was doing. The God of Thunder cared about his brother's wellbeing and wanted to make sure he was treating her well. Loki and Runa continued to go on dates; they walked around outdoors at night, ate meals brought to the prince's room, occasional sex after they drank too much.

The last example would later lead to a problem.

Runa knew she was not the healthiest of Asgardians, but she should not have been as sick as she was. For the past two weeks, she felt hot and dizzy constantly, even though it was rather cool weather in Asgard as of late. She found it best to sit as often as she could and wear slightly less clothing, though not too revealing as she was a servant and needed to maintain a certain appearance. She ate more, which did not make sense to Runa; she was, in Midgardian measurements, five feet and two inches, her body did not need the average amount of Asgardian food servings, she even ate more than average. The servant already had large breasts, but they somehow grew bigger and felt tender. Runa did not know what was ailing her until she realized one thing: her period was late. For Asgardian women, their menstruation cycle occurred every other month, and Runa was a month late.

After being finished with her servant duties for the day, Runa went to the healers for treatment of her condition. As she told the healers about her symptoms and aches, she thought they would be able to determine what was wrong with her. She thought to herself how she could not be pregnant. Sure, she and Loki had sex, but they had only been dating for a few months. It takes most people years to conceive a child and are usually together for the same amount of time. Additionally, they were both too young. In Midgardian terms, Loki and Runa were approximately eighteen years old. They were not married either; having a child now would cause many problems.

 _I am sure that I cannot be pregnant,_ thought Runa. _My body is not that strong, so I'm probably sick. That has to be it: I am simply iller than usual. It will pass and I will be fine afterward._

"Congratulations, you are two and a half months pregnant."

Light green eyes bulged after the healer's statement. Runa looked at the floor and ignored all sounds around her. The focus was only on her thoughts.

She did not feel ready for this. Being a parent was a huge responsibility, and Runa did not know if she was equipped for raising a child. She was too young and so was her child's father. And Loki, would he be prepared for parenting? Did he even want to be a parent? Runa could not be a parent alone; she needed Loki.

Maybe she could get rid of the child. Abort it before Loki knows and never give any hints of the child's existence. But someone would tell the royal family. She was aware that people within the palace walls knew about her romantic relationship with Loki. Perhaps one of the healers would tell, but the royal family might agree with the decision to abort.

But Loki cared about Runa, although he was a selfish creature. There was a heedless nature in his eyes, but Runa saw something different when he looked at her. An egocentric gleam was replaced with selflessness. If Loki cared about Runa, then he would care about their child.

Runa would keep the child and raise it with Loki.

* * *

Everything had changed in their lives so fast.

Just hours ago, Runa was living in the servants' quarters and discovered that she was pregnant. The previous night, she had told Loki about her condition and revealed the news to his parents early the next day. Now, with respect to the order she was given to reside in the royal chambers, she was looking out Loki's window as he prepared for bed. Relieved of her servant duties for an indefinite amount of time, Runa was enjoined to sleep in Loki's room for the remainder of her pregnancy. It had only been a simple day, but Runa felt as if everything was different.

It was strange for Loki as well. Washing his face in the washroom, Loki reflected upon his day. He thought the day was going normally until he found Runa crying in his rooms. Frightened by what was upsetting her, Loki comforted Runa and questioned what was wrong. The last thing he expected was for Runa to tell him that she was pregnant with his child. She continued to appear scared after she told him and when pondering about what was further distressing her, Runa asked if he wanted the child and if they were ready to be parents. A response did not arrive immediately, as Loki was thinking about an answer.

They were young and in a new relationship, certainly not the time to have a baby. If they welcomed the idea of accepting the child, others may not. Loki's family would be disappointed, but the filtering of their dismay would be different. Frigga would be elated at the concept of becoming a grandmother. Thor definitely would not be disappointed, probably feting the idea of being a warm and fun uncle. The person whose disappointment had the possibility of never disappearing was Odin. He had a stone-like face, not expressing much emotion when conversing with his people, and sometimes his own family. The All-Father might forever be dissatisfied with his youngest son, never giving him the opportunity to rule the Nine Realms.

But there was no strong reason to not raise the child. So what if a feeling of disappointment rose in his family? Even though it had only been a few months, Loki felt that Runa was becoming his family. A child would be a confirmation of their loving relationship and a welcome extension. Raising the baby might make his father finally proud of him. If Loki could overcome the obstacles of parenting and successfully nurture the child, then he might finally escape from Thor's shadow by demonstrating the maturity he had achieved, the maturity needed to be king.

So Loki comforted Runa by telling her that he would be involved in the child's life. He would be a father.

He figured it would be the best idea to tell his parents the news in the morning. Runa was already two and a half months pregnant, her belly would be growing soon, there was no use in hiding. That morning he told Runa to stay in his room until he returned. Loki was not surprised when Frigga requested to meet Runa. The All-Mother seemed dismayed initially, but supportive of her son's decision to be a father. What was surprising was Odin's quick acceptance. Just minutes after receiving the news, Odin met Runa herself and took quite a liking to her, he decided she was a good match for his son.

Loki exited the washroom and saw Runa leaning on the rail to the window, completely lost in thought. There was a confused expression on her face, she appeared afraid and tired. He walked up to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. In response, Runa shook her head to evade her mind. She looked up at Loki, wondering what he wanted.

"Why don't you join me in bed?" Loki asked. "You look tired. I think some rest would be best for both of us right now."

Runa nodded as Loki led her to his bed. She laid down, pulling the covers over her petite body. Loki could tell how tired she was based on the quick speed when Runa's head hit the pillow. Her hands grasped the fabric of the sheets.

"Everything feels so different," Runa said in a hushed voice. "I feel as if my life has been transformed in one day."

"I understand," responded Loki. "I did not expect you to be pregnant, and I don't think you did either. But it's alright. We are going to be parents in about six months. We have time to prepare for the baby."

"I just feel scared. I do not know how to raise a child. I fear we might ruin something."

"We will not, Runa. We will learn, as all parents do. There will be difficulties, but I know we can do this. I know you are capable of being a great mother. Our child will be loved. If it makes you feel any better, I'm frightened as well. Even as I am encouraging, there is still some doubt. All I am certain of is that I will never leave you or the baby."

"Did you promise?"

Loki laid down on his own pillow, stroking Runa's blushy cheek.

"I do. I love you both too much to leave."

Runa smiled and snuggled closer to Loki.

"I love you too. And your speech did make me feel better."

* * *

Anyone who knew Loki's true identity as a Frost Giant could predict that Runa would have a rough pregnancy. The first half-Jotun and half-Asgardian child would be arriving soon, but the parents-to-be were clueless to the truth. A female Asgardian like Runa would struggle to handle the cold temperature the baby needed to survive. The baby had to create an icy atmosphere itself safe, so it had to take energy from its mother.

Fainting, dizziness, and cold flashes began occurring when Runa was four months pregnant. The first time she fainted, Loki was able to catch her before any damage could be done to the baby. Runa believed it was her petite body and lack of a strong build made it different to carry a child. Loki explained to her that some pregnancies were more difficult than others, a fact that was confirmed by the healers. Both had eventually convinced themselves of a lie.

Pessimistic behavior was a part of Loki's nature, but he had taken a slightly more positive attitude to lighten Runa's mood. It was not the most noticeable change, as Loki knew a larger swift in his personality would bother his lover. Being more joyful was not a challenge for him, for discovering that Runa was carrying a little girl elevated Loki's mood. In all honesty, the sex of his child did not matter but learning that he was going to have a daughter gave Loki many jocular emotions.

Staying close to Runa became a natural instinct for Loki. He became overly protective, feeling that it was his duty to evade her and their unborn daughter from any harm. He spent most of his free time with Runa, though his job as a prince occasionally sent him away to another realm.

"Hel, even these formal missions are exhausting," Loki said to himself as he returned to his chambers. "It was only a day and yet here I am: annoyed at others' ignorance."

Although he was probably the smartest man in Asgard, Loki had trouble keeping an even temper. His friends kept his anger under control so the mission would be a success. Luckily, being calm made the ordeal end quicker, letting Loki go home to his lover, despite it being rather late into the night.

The air hit Loki as he entered his chamber. The breeze was of a moderate temperature, fitting for the time of year. A window near the corner of the room was open, letting some fresh air invade the room while not fully changing the climate. Runa laid on their bed, the end of the covers above her breasts. One hand was above the sheets, while the other rested on her swollen stomach.

Loki walked over to the bed and laid his hand on Runa's belly. At five months pregnant, her midsection was slightly bigger than average. Their daughter began kicking when she felt her father's touch, causing her mother to stir.

"You have given your mother quite a hard time," quipped Loki as he knelt down. "It would be best to not wake up your mother. Better give her a good night's rest. I feel guilty for doing this to her, so don't bother her further."

The expecting mother soon settled, not awoken by the baby's sudden kicking. Loki rubbed her stomach, feeling the movements of his unborn daughter.

"I love you such much, even though you are not born yet. I have never been both elated and frightened at the same time. Not to offend you, but I never planned to have children this soon in my life. Yet I'm happy that you are here, especially since you are a girl. I told myself early on that I didn't care about your sex, but I feel better knowing that you are a female. Perhaps I wanted a daughter all along. Most royals want their firstborn to be a boy, but I think there are too many. A princess is just what this nation needs.

"Others may antagonize you for being illegitimate, which is not your fault, that should be blamed on your mother and mine. But you should not fret, I won't let anyone attack you. You will have the protection of trained guards, warriors, and gods to protect you. Judging by your kicks, you might be quite powerful yourself."

Loki stood up and entered the washroom, cleaning himself and changing his clothing before he went to bed. It did not take him long, so he soon lifted the blanket on his bed and laid down. He rested his head on a pillow and closed his eyes, wanting sleep to consume him after a long day.

"You don't have to feel guilty for impregnating me."

The prince opened his eyes and saw his pregnant girlfriend looking at him.

"You heard all of that?"

"Of course. As soon as you enter the room, she starts kicking uncontrollably. No matter what time of day it is, she is very excited to see you. She was also kicking my bladder, which she always does, so it was difficult to fall back asleep. You were very open to our daughter ."

Loki sighed and scratched his hair. "It's just hard to tell people how I feel, sometimes even with you. Never in my life have I ever told others about my fears, it makes me feel vulnerable and weak. Venting my thoughts to our daughter surprisingly made me feel better."

Runa turned her head to look at her boyfriend. "I know a lot has happened in the past few months. Being confused and afraid right now makes sense. If anyone understands how you feel, it's me. I love you, Loki. I want you to be well when our daughter arrives."

The god nodded. "I never thought I would be this pleased to discover that I will be a parent. Finding out that we're having a little girl, feeling her kick inside you, deciding her name will be Eira, it has made me experience joys I have never felt. But there is this small terror building up inside me. First starting when you fainted, I felt guilty for doing this to do. We created life, but I did one thing while you do most of the work: carrying our child despite the obstacles. Then, as we get closer and closer to her birth, I don't know if I will be a good parent. I will love our daughter, but I worry I might ruin something. As the youngest child, I have no experience with children."

"And I'm an only child, so you are not alone in that area. When I found out I was pregnant, I was the most afraid I have ever been. I was concerned about your reaction and those of others. We are so young, not the average age to begin having children. To be honest, I considered aborting the baby, but then I thought about you. Putting my fears aside, I realized that you truly cared about me, therefore you would care about our child. What prevented me from getting rid of the child was realizing that you would be a good father. When you were excited about me telling you about the pregnancy, your elation when we discovered I was carrying a girl, I was glad to know I was right."

At some point during her statement, Runa had turned her body to get a full look at her lover. She rubbed his shoulder, and Loki stroked a strand of her curly hair in return. "You really think I will be a good father?"

Runa responded with a nod. "Without a doubt. And your daughter agrees with me."

Loki pulled a hand from under the covers and rested it on Runa's stomach. His daughter continued kicking, though she moved where her kicks were aimed at the palm of her father.

"Her kicks are quite strong," said the god as his thumb rubbed her stomach while the rest of his hand remained still.

"I know, Loki," sighed Runa. "I can feel her kicks better than you."

Loki laughed. Runa huffed out a laugh and shifted her head to rest on his chest.

"Will you rub my back when I throw up in the morning?"

"Of course," Loki said after he chuckled.

The couple fell asleep in that position

* * *

It all felt fast and slow at the same time. A couple of conversations lead to sex, a few dates created a baby. In the course of a few months, the relationship between Loki and Runa was swift, but it eventually felt normal. Loki could not imagine his life without Runa and the anticipating birth of his daughter. Half a year ago Runa was cleaning corners of the palace, now she spent many hours of her day resting in her lover's chambers as she carried his child.

The creation of their child caused a realization in the couple's mind: the feats that multiple relationships take years or even decades to accomplish was reached by Loki and Runa within months. A decision was made by the two. It was best for the remainder of their relationship to grow at a steady pace. They would have the baby and focus on raising her while balancing their romance. While some encouraged them to marry before the baby's birth, their closest friends and allies thought it would be best to wait a few years before considering engagement.

Loki and Runa agreed, but sometimes people change.

Many women approached Loki with dreams of romance and occasionally he reciprocated those advances - and he would be lying if he did not have similar feelings toward some men. But there were several who deserved courting him because of his royal status. When he fell in love with Runa, he could tell that her statements were not a fabrication; she armored Loki for the man he was.

On an uneventful day, Loki returned to his chambers after a sparring match. He asked Runa how her day was. The woman was initially dodging the question, confessing that she spent the day not doing anything noteworthy. Once Loki noted that she was reading a new book, Runa became annoyed, telling him that the ending of the book was terrible and unsatisfying. Loki, a man with a lifelong fascination with literature, was interested in her opinions. During the complaints, Loki realized the number of things he had in common with Runa and how he was truly enchanted by every word she said.

In the midst of Runa's statement, Loki discerned that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Runa's as she apologized for being upset at something so daft, but it did not register with Loki as he realized his full love for her. As she complained about her pregnancy hormones making her increasingly irritable, the god hugged her and stated that her anger did not matter, he still loved her.

Loki decided that he wanted to marry Runa, though not any time soon. He even approached Runa about the topic, asking her if she wanted to wed him at some point during the future. Initially shocked by the sudden question, Runa had difficulty processing what Loki said to her. But soon after, Runa thought about the last few months and her relationship with Loki. She loved and she knew he loved her. So, she agreed to marry him sometime after their daughter was born.

The engagement was kept a secret, as the couple figured that if people knew, then they would attempt to make the wedding happen sooner. There were no objects or tokens to confirm they were now engaged. It was a complete secret.

An attempt to confirm their engagement had to be made, at least that was what Loki thought. Just something between the two of them that represented their love.

One night Loki requested to Runa that they should leave the palace and walk around the shops and fields of Asgard as a date. He did not know the last time his fiance had actually left the premises of the castle. His theory was that leaving the palace for a few hours might clear her mind and relieve some of her stress. Originally thinking Runa would reject the notion, he was surprised by how quickly she agreed. Runa had plenty of alone time with Loki but the idea of vacating the confines of the palace was appealing.

A few days later they decamped for their date. Loki disguised himself as a normal citizen, while Runa kept her usual appearance. They walked around the outdoor markets of Asgard, separating at one point for their own purchases. One acquisition by Loki was a surprise for Runa: he did not wish for her to see it.

Runa tasked herself with baby-shopping. A toy vendor was selling stuffed animals representing famous animals from Asgardian tales. The toy version of Hati - the black wolf who chased the moon and foil of his brother Skoll, who chased the sun - caught Runa's eye. Hati was joined by small strips of fabrics, which Runa would eventually use to sew and create blankets and clothes for her daughter.

An hour of shopping was followed by a visit to a field outside the walls of the palace. Assisting her up a small slope of a hill, Loki invited Runa to sit underneath the leaves and branches of a horse-chestnut tree. Curiosity filled the woman's eyes, quizzical of his intentions. The couple settled onto the shadows of the tree. Loki wrapped his arm around Runa's shoulder, while she leaned her head against his own.

"There is a motivation behind this date tonight, isn't there?" probed Runa. "Most nights you prefer to settle in your chambers, but you have been rather persistent about leaving the castle for a few hours."

"You are very observational," Loki noted as he reached for an item in his pocket. "I figured that you may have wanted to leave the castle for a bit, do something amusing without my family or the guards pestering and watching us. I also wanted to get you something."

Loki removed the object from his pocket. The item was a common romantic token, generally described as a smooth chain material composed of a metal, the more exquisite ones were made of materials like gold or silver. The centerpiece of the necklace was usually comprised of a jewel framed by a metal component. It was an engagement necklace, the Asgardian version of a Midgardian engagement ring.

The necklace Loki bought was held together by a silver chain, almost as thin as a piece of string, but thick enough for one to notice the details and engravings it contained. The rim of the ring was silver as well, but a majority of the ring was made of a teal gemstone. The interior of the ring had engravings: words translating to love and passion from the language of Old Norse.

"Loki," breathed Runa. "When did you… Where-" Shock prevented her from finishing.

"Although we agreed to hide our engagement from others for an indefinite amount of time, I thought we should have some type of object to confirm it, just for both of us."

Runa slowly grasped the necklace from Loki's hand. Her fingers felt the textures of the materials, staring deeply into the teal stone engraved throughout the ring. Her facial expression was neutral and Loki had difficulty determining her thoughts.

"If you don't like it, it is perfectly understandable. I do not wish for you to be further stressed, so you are free to-"

Loki's statement was interrupted by a kiss from Runa.

"It's perfect, Loki," said Runa after she ended the kiss. "I love you, so much."

Runa pulled the chain of the necklace over her head, letting it settle on her neck and hiding the ring under the upper part of her shirt, continuing to keep the secret of her engagement with Loki.

* * *

The average Asgardian pregnancy lasts the same as pregnancy from Midgard: nine months. Since the biology of the Jotnar was mostly unspecified, the healers were clueless about the length of Runa's pregnancy. Whether the pregnancies of Jotuns were the same length as Asgardians or not was unknown. The pregnancy could be shorter than the regular nine months or be longer.

None of this information was disclosed to either Loki or Runa. Neither knew about Loki's true identity as a Jotun prince, the forgotten son of Laufey, the dishonorable runt. Runa did not know she was carrying the first child in history that was half-Aesir, half-Jotnar. She had faced some effects of the pregnancy so far - dizziness, fatigue, a cold body temperature - and assumed that her pregnancy was simply more difficult than average. The healers hypnotized that the toils from carrying a halfling were causing stress upon her body.

Runa was barely eight months pregnant when she felt contractions for the first time. Originally thinking it was just the baby kicking her rather unpliable, she tried to go about her morning normally. Discomfort was the first feeling, but as the time between each contraction became closer and closer, Runa felt as if someone was tormenting her. Attempting to hide her pain from Loki became fruitless, as he immediately noticed her wincing. He panicked when she told him that their daughter was ready to see the world a bit earlier than expected. A false sense of tranquility enveloped Loki as he left to ask aid from the healers, he did not want Runa to feel as unnerved as he was. During her wait, a wet, pop-like noise was released by Runa's body. With it, a thick, mucus-like liquid containing red streaks was distributed among the tiles of the chamber floor. The kicks were harder, angrier; the child attempting to be free of the confinements of her mother's womb.

In the process of the thirteen-hour labor, Loki was separated from Runa. The healers wiped the sweat from her forehead, allowed her to squeeze their hands to numb the pain, gave her a bed to rest between each bout of pain. She still felt lonely, however. The presence of the love of her life was empty, the healers failing to mimic his methods of comfort. But she was not sure if anyone could numb the endless pain. Pushing out the child felt like she was being split in two, the power of her body diminishing.

All the pain was erased in seconds, the deafening cries of her infant daughter breaking reality. Suddenly there was no affliction, replaced by the material desire to soothe her child's first cries. Ignoring the pain of the afterbirth, Runa watched as her daughter was carried out of the room. Perhaps her sense of reality was slipping, as she thought she could see a small, pale blue hand peeking out of the blanket. Seconds later, her daughter returned to the room, this time a patchy red foot sneaking out of the blanket's confinements.

The tears of the child reduced once she was placed in the arms of her exhausted mother. The little girl settled her head against her mother's breast, enervated from her first few minutes of life. Her rest did not last for long, her rising hunger becoming a bother. While most babies struggled to feed for the first time, Runa's daughter learned quickly.

"You are such an impatient little girl," Runa whispered to her daughter as she quenched her thirst. "So much like her father."

The mother and daughter pair were alone, the healers were in another room, cleaning their materials. Someone was sent to deliver the news of his daughter's birth to Loki. The baby had finished her first meal, releasing a yawn as Runa adjusted her dress. The girl had fallen asleep and Runa wished she could do the same. But she wanted to see Loki before she rested. She had a need for her little family to be together for the first time.

The first time they would be a complete family. Loki, Runa, and their daughter.

Their little Eira.

While she was pregnant with Eira, Runa imagined what she would look like, if her looks would fit her name. She knew her daughter would have a head full of her father's sable locks. Eira had black hair, but she lacked her mother's traits. Her nose was as pointy as Loki's and Runa had the feeling that when her eyes finally settled to their definite color, Eira would have jade irises. Her chin was round and face shaped like a diamond, just like her mother.

Runa stroked her daughter's clenched fists, waiting for Loki to appear. It was a struggle to stay awake, the inside of her body felt sore and weak, which she assumed was an effect of labor. Before giving birth, she was told it was normal to experience perineal tears, abdominal pain, and constipation, but those were supposed to occur a few days after, not right away. Something felt wrong, but Runa did not know what. She wanted to get the attention of the healers, tell them that her body was not behaving correctly.

But she needed to see Loki. She needed to see him meet his daughter for the first time.

She would stay awake, let Loki hold Eira, watch their first interactions, and then she would rest. After a half a day of labor, she deserved to drowse, but waking up was not in her destiny.

Runa heard footsteps from the hallway, recognizing them as Loki's. She smiled, excited to see the prince, and be a family for the first and last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be updated in real time, as unlike my other works, I am currently writing each chapter. The length between each chapter posting will be a bit longer, but I hope my readers will be patient.


	2. Father and Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fatherhood is difficult to describe. While the sleepless nights and seemingly never-ending crying causes the worst of headaches, there are plenty moments of bliss, sometimes in those of annoyance. 
> 
> I hate hearing the wails of my daughter, as seeing her in displeasure causes me internal pain. But as she leans her head against my chest, and later wanting me -- and only me -- to ease her distress offers a strange yet comforting sense of tranquility. 
> 
> I am overjoyed watching my little girl grow up and form her own ambitions.
> 
> I wish her mother, who sacrificed so much, was able to witness it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be part of the prologue but it was already 6,000 words long so I said screw it and decided to make this the first official chapter.

Days-old babies were rather uninteresting creatures. They did not play, their muscles incapable of making a smile, could not talk. Their interactions were dull; they were either sleeping or crying.

Loki had these feelings for most of his life. As the youngest child, he had limited interactions with children of lesser ages. He saw nothing special with babies; they all looked the same, not many differences between the traits of newborns.

Biases formed soon after he became a father. The first time he held Eira in his arms, he was confident that his daughter was the perfect being in the universe. She was his female clone: ebony hair and dark green eyes. Unlike him, she was utterly innocent, oblivious to the unfair circumstances and situations of the world, not a single dose of evil contained in her tiny body. Her birth skin, patchy red, developed into a pale tan. Not as snowy white as Loki's hue, but paler than the light tan of her mother.

The perfection of his daughter burgeoned after the death of Runa. Eira was now her legacy. She was the last remains Loki had of the love of his life, taken away from him and their daughter too early, now living eternity in Valhalla, where they would meet her in a few thousand years. The excitement of parenthood had washed away, the tide slow with grief. The duty of single parenthood fell upon Loki, and for the wellbeing of his daughter, he would not fail.

"She is quite quiet," Loki spoke to his mother as he held a sleepy Eira in his arms. "Her cries are loud, but she does not fuss much. She simply whines for her demands."

"Just you wait," responded Frigga, adjusting the blankets wrapped around her granddaughter. "I bet that a few weeks from now, she will be as noisy as you were at her age."

"I could not have been that loud. I'm not like that now."

"You would be surprised about how you were as a little boy."

Eira interrupted the conversation, stretching her limbs and releasing a squeak. Exhausted by her simple actions, she leaned her head further into Loki's chest, comforted by the multiple layers of padding in his shirt.

"She will be awake more once she researches two months," the queen said. "When that time comes, she will be such an energetic girl. You will have your hands full with her." She rubbed Eira's soft cheek, but the princess did not respond.

"Well then, you better become used to me asking you for help," stated Loki with a sly grin.

* * *

After his first three weeks of parenting, Loki noticed how observational his daughter was. She turned her head or cooed whenever she heard her name. Loki was the only being who cared for her at night, which made her learn his voice. According to Frigga, an infant's ability to hear was incredible, far above the capabilities of adults. Yet the reason for Eira being able to defect the voice of her father within a week was unknown. The explanation given - although it was less of a clarification and more of a guess - was that the newborn princess was smarter than most infants.

The night Eira turned nineteen days old, Loki awoke to cries originating from the middle of the room. The prince grumbled and slowly rose from his bed, rubbing his eyes and adjusting his sight to the dark interior. As he walked to where Eira laid wailing, Loki tried to determine the reason for her tears. He was beginning to recognize the various pitches of her cries. Her crying tone at the current moment described her loneliness and the desire to be held, specifically by Loki.

Laying his green eyes upon his newborn daughter, Loki saw Eira kick her legs and wave her clenched fists in the air, desperate for anyone to comfort her, relieve her of distress. The cries may have slightly diminished if she could see the face of her father above the crib, but the eyesight of newborns was weak, not fully developed.

"Shush, Eira," Loki whispered to his daughter, lifting her from the confinements of her crib. "It's alright. Daddy is here. Do not fret. I am not going anywhere."

Light pats hit the back of the young princess, the thumb of her father stroked her soft cheek, her head was against his chest, the gentle tempo of his heartbeat ran through her ears. The crying stopped completely, Eira's green eyes looked at the identical ones belonging to Loki. He gazed upon her sleepy face and smiled as he comforted her into slumber. Loki paced in his chambers, as Eira liked to feel movement while he rocked her to sleep.

Once her breathing evened, Loki put Eira back in her crib. He placed her on the mattress of the crib and moved his fingers from underneath her back. Not feeling her father nearby, she began whining. Loki's eyebrows creased in confusion. He lifted her from the crib once again, alongside it was the ceasing of her cries, her eyes still closed though it was unclear if she was awake. Loki sighed and attempted to put her in the bed for the second time, but the cycle continued. Her sobs were silent but would grow defiant if not picked up again.

"What is the matter?" Loki questioned his daughter as he embraced. "I know you are not hungry or in need of a change. What else could be wrong?"

Eira leaned her ickle head against the padding of Loki's nightwear, letting out a tired breath and a squeaky sound of content. The young father responded with another sigh.

"You will fuss immensely if I refuse to hold you for the night, is that right? Well, if it is only for one night - and just one night - then I don't see any harm. You win this time, Eira."

Loki moved to his bed with a debilitated newborn in his slender arms. One hand pulled the covers, while the other held Eira as his thumb stroked a strand of her raven hair. He settled on the king-size bed, covering himself with blankets while not disturbing a wearied Eira. His vision remained focused on his daughter as he leaned his head against the pillows. While watching Eira drowse, Loki fell into a blissful slumber.

Four hours later, Eira woke up. For a newborn, more than two hours of rest was a miracle.

* * *

Loki did not ask for aid much in the beginning. It was just him and Eira in the first three months. His daughter was with him when he was around his friends and family. The only time he was alone was when his daughter napped. During her rest, he would reflect on the past year, allowing himself to grieve for Runa without Eira witnessing the depressed state of her father.

But when Thor requested to play with his niece and Frigga offered to watch over her while Loki performed his royal duties, he realized that more help was needed. He allowed himself to be slightly vulnerable for the sake of his daughter, but Loki believed demanding too much from his family would diminish his dignity. The prince requested aid for Eira for simple things. Talking to royal officials investigating political situations, spying others (which he never confessed to, instead lying about completing another duty), he asked his allies to watch Eira while he did uncomplicated things, only assenting for his Frigga to care for his daughter while he was away from the palace or in another realm for a mission.

His first mission after the birth of Eira was a four-day trip to Alfheim, the realm of the Light Elves. Her grandmother guarded the princess while Loki was away. Eira had shown signs of attachment to her father, which made him worry about her separation anxiety. She did fuss due to the sudden disappearance of Loki, but Frigga sensed the strong perception her granddaughter had with scents. Most days were spent with Eira using a shirt belonging to her father as a blanket, content with him not being physically present so long as she could smell him.

It was late into the night when Loki and his companions had finally returned to Asgard. The prince was impatient, greeting people quickly and describing the results of the mission in simple terms so he could return to his chambers and be alone with his infant daughter.

Although the princess was asleep, Loki lifted Eira from her crib and held her in his arms. Holding her close to his chest, he sniffed her hair, breathing in her familiar scent, and stroked her small back, all while she remained in a state of slumber, unaware of her father's returning presence.

"I missed you, Eira," he whispered to the vacant head of his daughter. The statement did not disrupt her slumber. She leaned her head closer to his chest; tiny hands clenched as Loki stroked a curl of ebony hair though they remained delicately placed on her chest. Weak legs administered a single kick against his ribs, the power comparable to a pillow.

Loki laughed at her unknowing actions and continued speaking. "Adults are annoying creatures, no matter the species. I hope you never become like that. The past two days have been an absolute nightmare. Light elves can be too stubborn, which is tandem to their ignorance. They are worse than Midgardians. Perhaps their attitudes will lighten once they meet you years from now. I sense such great potential in you, little one."

Seidr was running through her veins, Loki could sense it from the day she was born. Eira had a streak for being obstinate, crying until her demands were met and whining if her needs were not reached. Mulishness was a common trait, one Loki and Runa shared. Whether it was their wants or the strong desire for truth, they would never concede. A stubborn inclination was typical for sorcerers. Eira showed adamant behavior at months old, so she was destined to master magic. After all, she was a princess, a demigoddess. Her potential was immeasurable, never to be matched.

Whatever level of power Eira attained, Loki would forever be overprotective. He would always consider her his little girl. His partial attachment to Eira strengthened over the months. She was beyond perfect, probably since she shared her genes with Loki and he was biased. Eira was all that remained of her mother. Runa died to give life to her daughter, shield her from the toxic side of her maternal family. Such a faultless child must be protected from the evils of the Nine Realms, a task only Loki could undertake.

Loki would do anything for Eira. For his daughter, he would kill, stab anyone who dares threaten or mock her and never let them take another living breath. He would make them regret uttering a single complaint against her. If it was for Eira, he would not be afraid to be ruthless.

As much as Loki wanted to hold his daughter, his exhaustion was rising. Eira would cry for her needs in an hour or two, and it was very early in the morning, so Loki would not get much sleep that night.

Sighing, Loki returned his daughter to her crib. Upon feeling her mattress, the princess stretched her limbs. Loki took Hati, her favorite plush toy, and put it in her arms. Although asleep, Eira's arm wrapped around the stuffed animal. Satisfied that his daughter was comfortable, Loki moved to his bed. He only removed his armor, too lazy to change into nightwear, and aware that his undershirt and pants were pleasant enough. As soon as his head hit his pillow, he fell asleep.

* * *

The residents of Asgard seemed uninterested with Eira after the news of her conception. Lies were made to the public, Loki was believed to have married another noblewoman in secrecy and had a child afterward. Though the ideals of Asgard had progressed over the centuries, some in the realm that clung to traditional value. The truth was hidden to protect Runa and her then-unborn child from hatred.

Though not everything could be fabricated with falsehoods, every Asgardian knew Loki's age; documents that detailed his birth had existed for over a millennium and the memories of his birthday celebrations could not be tainted.

Rumors spread that one night of sex between Loki and a noblewoman led to the creation of a child. Loki was not bothered; he knew the truth and did not care about the lies people created. If harsh words were never spoken about Eira, then he was content.

Several members of Asgardian nobility, aware of the veracity were disappointed that a prince was indifferent to having an illegitimate child. Such a disgrace to the reputation of Asgardian royalty, were thoughts not supported by his family. Odin and Frigga simply wanted their youngest son to be prepared for the responsibility of parenthood. The only desire of Thor was to play with his niece when she was old enough for light entertainment.

The stubborn nobility realized the error in their prior conceptions once they met the princess. Eira was such a cheerful baby, her smile often switching between her father's and that of her mother, depending on her mood. She enjoyed playing with her father and uncle; they simply moved objects around in an entertaining manner or put them out of her reach, which was all it took to amuse her.

Perhaps Eira loved her family too much. She only wanted them to hold her, as she was not comfortable with most of their friends and strangers. Her first words referred to her father and grandparents by their familial titles, while Thor was mentioned by his name. The only non-family member she liked was Sif, who spent occasional time with the princess.

One night, when Eira was eighteen months old, she refused to go to sleep. This behavior was not unusual behavior for Eira, as she disliked going to sleep, yet felt the same about waking up.

Since Eira was smarter than most toddlers her age, she was very observational. Whenever Loki had a mission, he would leave in the morning, before Eira woke up, and leave her in the care of her grandmother. Upon his return, he was told stories of her behavior, particularly about her reaction to the disappearance of Loki. There were tears, tantrums, and deep naps. Eira trusted Frigga, but she did not offer the same presence as Loki. Giggles and grins were the first sights Loki discerned upon when he returned to his chambers, the attitude of the little girl switching from vexation to delight when she saw her father. The schedule was uneven, breaks between missions were always uncertain, and the assignments themselves had undetermined lengths that were merely estimated. These timetables were never uniform, but Eira did what she best: observe.

She adapted to the unevenness.

"No sleep, Dada," whined Eira as she wiggled her fists into Loki's chest, protected by layers of cloth and metal padding.

"You have to sleep, Eira," pleaded a level-headed Loki. "It has been fifteen minutes, and you won't stop fussing. If this continues, you will exhaust yourself to sleep. Then you will wake up sick, and we don't that. Please, Eira, calm down for daddy. I cannot be tired tomorrow."

"No! No go, Dada!" Eira spoke with a louder tone. Loki raised his eyebrow.

"Eira, I'm not going anywhere at the moment."

"No, mis. You go for mis."

Loki sighed, understanding what she meant. She knew about the mission. Somehow, she recognized the word itself, and perhaps the behavior and conversations that usually occurred beforehand. "You don't want me to leave tomorrow. Oh, Eira. I have to go. It is my duty as a prince."

Eira shook her head and let out a sob. She leaned her entire body against her father, desperate for his embrace. Loki felt pity for his daughter, clearly not understanding his duty to protect the realms from danger and the fact that he would return after a few days. He kissed the top of her head, covered in black curls, and rubbed her back.

"You don't have to worry, little one. It is only a few days. I will not be leaving you forever. I would never do that. I love you too much for that."

The princess snuffled and looked up at her father, her face continuing to lean against his chest.

"I no wan you to go. Please, Dada. No go."

"I'm sorry, Eira, but I have to go. It will not be lengthy, and when I come back, I will go right to you. Additionally, you will have your grandmother with you. And Volstagg's daughters, Siri and Daven, they will play with you. You will be far from alone, but if you ever feel lonely, just remember that I will return and never forget you. I promise."

The tears on Loki's shirt were drying; Eira had finished crying. Her distress did not diminish completely. Tiny eyebrows till tightened in displeasure, and dainty hands clung tautly to his clothes. The worry did not disappear completely, which did not surprise Loki. Her intelligence was minuscule, sense of time nonexistent, and dependence on her father problematic. An effortless speech would not quell her anxiety.

Loki began to pace around his chambers, stroking Eira's hair to soothe her into slumber.

"Would you like to sleep in my bed tonight?" requested Loki as his chin rested on the head of his daughter. Without looking down, Loki could feel the motion of her nod. He continued slowly walking around the room, rocking Eira as her eyes began to close.

Before her eyelids shut, Eira let out a whisper: "I love you, Dada."

Loki smiled, stroking her cheek as he responded.

"I love you, too. More than anything. And I promise, I will never leave you."

* * *

Education for Eira began with magic. A few days past her third birthday and the day after she learned the slight truth about her mother, Loki taught her to activate her seidr. It was not as exciting as Eira thought, as the lesson consisted of meditation to conjure her seidr and feel it through her veins. A rather small accomplishment, but Eira knew her mother would be proud, perhaps smiling at her from Valhalla.

The meditations continued for several weeks; she needed to control her emotions and body before going further into her magical training. When she could sense the seidr flow throughout her body, her ability to activate it would be second nature, she could learn more robust skills.

Within a few months, she could concentrate the particles of her seidr to form a small shape. Little, viridescent disks would float above Eira's hands, but they soon vanished fragment by fragment. All she could muster was a few seconds before her oval apparition dusted with the wind.

It would take practice to strengthen the bond with her seidr, not just sensing it glide within her blood. Luckily, Eira was an eager and ambitious student. She trained during the day and attempted to skip sleep to do the same at night. Loki would always unmask her endeavors - they shared the room, so it was never difficult to uncover. He would lightly laugh as she pleaded for him to let her practice, then telling her she was a beyond excellent pupil and that there was always tomorrow and the day after that.

Loki was a patient teacher, much unlike his usual behavior. His daughter was the one he was training, and he was never agitated with her. He tried to mimic several teaching tactics his mother used with him while also accommodating to Eira's needs. Pride burst within his heart when Eira felt her seidr for the first time. Seeing his own flesh and blood smile each time she accomplished something new with her magic made him happier than words could describe. All the fears he had of being a terrible father swiftly faded when her laugh reached his ears.

"Before you can recreate an object," Loki said to Eira during an instruction. He was kneeling to his daughter's height level, trying not to be too intimidating while teaching her. "You have to feel it with your seidr, understand its composition. To do this, you must move the object with the magic connected to your mind, also known as telekinesis. Do you think you can do this?"

Eira, eyes wide with excitement as she listened to every word her father said, nodded. Loki smiled in return and walked backward a few steps after Eira turned around to stare intensely at the object. It was a violet rose, thornless and a majority of the stem removed.

From a short distance away, Loki advised his daughter. "Focus your vision on the rose, Eira. Forget all of your other surroundings and only see the flower. Reach your hand out, and your seidr will move what your eyes are looking at."

Eira closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to focus on her seidr. Opening her green eyes, Eira looked straight at the rose. She reached her arm out and concentrated on her magic, fingers twitching as she attempted to activate her telekinesis. Nearly a minute into the process, the amethyst flower convulsed before moving swiftly in Eira's direction. Slowing the speed so she could grab it, Eira reached for the rose and smiled as it landed in the palm of her hand.

"Daddy, look!" the princess cried out in excitement as she ran toward Loki. "I moved it with my mind, just like you said I could."

Loki stroked her raven curls with a grin on his face. "I knew you could do it. You're such a smart girl. You will be a natural sorceress, but you still have much to learn."

"I still want to learn more! I want to become as good at magic as you and grandma."

"Oh, I'm sure your skill will be beyond ours someday. As a reward for your accomplishment, why don't we go to the waterfall tomorrow? Just you and me. Does that seem like fun?"

"Yes, Daddy! Can we bring a book with us? Maybe you can teach me a few words."

Loki laughed when Eira mention learning to read. Inheriting her mother's ability as a skriver, Eira seemed to understand how to read simple determiners, such as 'the,' 'a,' and 'my.' Her skill in comprehending words was far more advanced than that of other children her age. She was incredibly smart and had a strong desire to learn as much as she could.

"Eager to learn, are we? Well, since you are learning your magic quite nicely, then I read you a book for children your age. Since dinner should be ready soon, we should go to the library and pick out a book. Would you like that? You can take the rose with you and put it in our chambers."

"Let's do that," Eira said enthusiastically.

Grabbing his daughter's tiny hand, Loki led her outside the training grounds to the hallway. On their journey to the library, Eira looked up at her father and asked him a question. "Daddy, are you excited for Uncle Thor's coordination in two months?"

Loki kept a neutral facial expression, not wanting Eira to know about his disappointment in his father's choice of heir. He was not wholly anger, though that was his primary emotion at first. He had worked so hard to earn the approval of Odin, to prove that he was mightier than Thor and a better ruler.

But then he realized that he could still denounce Thor, though it would be more complicated than before. All he had to do was demonstrate his older brother's stupidity and brutality, which would make Asgardians see him as unfit to be king. Setting an entrance for an Asgardian enemy and allowing them to ruin his coordination would surely exploit Thor's weaknesses. Afterward, the cards would fall into place, and Loki would fill the holes, became a hero in the eyes of the Nine Realms and worthy son to his father.

"Eira, I am beyond exuberant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's movie night next chapter.


	3. God of Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Announcing that Thor will be king will never stop my schemes.
> 
> The chance to become the leader of the Nine Realms was given to my brother on a golden platter. Simply being more favorable in the eye of our father helped Thor achieve what was meant to be mine.
> 
> I can demonstrate how I overcame my shortcomings by becoming King.
> 
> I can improve my daughter's life.
> 
> What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally made it to an actual movie. Made my job to write a lot easier.

The large den of alcohol had opened for the first time in centuries. Its high quality of beer, wine, and liquor reserved only for the most momentous of occasions. The coronation of the new king of Asgard was deserving of such marvelous drinks.

His thirteenth serving of wine of the night, Thor chugged the red alcohol contained in the goblet. Only less than an hour from being proclaimed king and Thor was drinking. How king-worthy. Once finished with his drink, Thor stared at the golden cup and felt its composition. A servant stood by the side, anxiously waiting for the soon-to-be king to throw empty goblet to the ground.

"Nervous, brother?"

Thor turned in his seat and saw Loki approaching him with a sly grin on his face. His clothes were designed in an ornate manner similar to those of this brother. Embellished with pure gold on his green garments, Loki was demonstrating the definition of royalty. He wore his signature curled headpiece.

"Have you ever known me to be nervous?" Thor questioned his younger brother as he set the cup on the table.

"There was that one time in Norheim…"

"That wasn't nerves, brother. It was the rage of battle. How else could I have fought my way through a hundred warriors and pulled us out alive?"

"As I recall, I was the one who veiled us in smoke to ease our escape."

Thor sighed. "Some do battle; others do tricks."

The servant refilled Thor's goblet and laughed at his last statement, which did not go unnoticed by Loki, who frowned in response. His eyes aimed at the cup while his hand twitched, eels rose from it, and slid down the rim. The servant responded with fear, dropping the plate holding the goblet, and stepping away from the magic-made eels.

It was Loki's turn to laugh, and Thor's to be disappointed. "Loki, that was just a waste of good wine."

Loki did not let the grin escape his face as he made the eels return to their original form as wine. "Just a bit of fun," he said to the servant. "Right, my friend?"

A guard approached the brothers. He handed Thor his famed eagle-winged helmet.

"Nice feathers," quipped Loki.

Thor sneered. "You don't really want to start this again, do you, cow?"

"I was being sincere!"

"You're incapable of sincerity."

"Am I? Well, in case you do not know, I have a three-year-old daughter. Being sincere is necessary for any father."

"What will be Eira doing during the coronation?"

"Mother will watch over her, hopefully, keep her in check."

"Based on the fact that she is your daughter, I doubt she won't cause trouble."

Loki playfully punched his brother's arm. Thor smiled before straightening his posture and looking forward. Loki did the same and changed the subject of the conversation.

"I have looked forward to this day as long as you have. You're my brother and my friend. Sometimes I am envious, but never doubt that I love you."

Thor searched his brother's face, seeing no trace of irony. He was either speaking from his heart or being a very talented liar. Maybe both. Thor put an appreciative hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Thank you."

The brothers were silent before Loki ruined the moment.

"Give us a kiss."

"Stop," Thor said after his sigh. He adjusted formal wear. "How do I look?"

"Like a king," responded Loki. Before he could say more, he was interrupted by the ceremonial horn. It was time for the coronation.

"Go ahead without me, Loki," Thor said as he put the helmet on his head.

Loki only spoke with an "alright then" before leaving the room.

He was not lying when he said he had been waiting for the day of Thor coronation. Odin always preferred Thor as a son, Loki knew this for years. Loki recognized the fact that Thor would become king instead of him, despite his anger, ignorance, and stubbornness. The only way to denounce Thor: embarrass him in the eyes of a crowd, and more importantly, in the eyes of his father. He would never recover, and Loki would become the hero and king of Asgard.

For the past year, he prepared for his brother's rise to kinghood. The fashion of it was the exact synonym of mischief. It was perfect, and not a soul knew what he was doing, not even Heimdall. He would make life better for his daughter, who would be proud of her father becoming king. His plans benefitted them both. The coronation of Thor would be their rise.

* * *

It was a beautiful sight.

Mere seconds before the All-Father proclaimed Thor as king, a small group of Frost Giant stole the Destroyer and Casket of Ancient Winters and disturbed the coronation. Somehow the perfection grew, with Thor suggesting that Asgard declare war on Jotun. Watching Odin be disappointed in his son for advocating war was magnificent to Loki.

Thor flipped a table covered with gourmet food. Loki sat on an embellished seat across from his brother, watching his tantrum and trying his best to hide his smirk. The door opened as soon as the food hit the floor. Sif and the Warriors Three entered. The usual jest came from Sif, while Volstagg looked at the waste of food in horror.

Loki spectated from his seat, surveying their conversation and observing that the door was open, everyone in Asgard could hear the yelling.

The shouts became distant once he saw Eira run into the room. She inspected the room, looking for her father. Luckily, she did not have to find him. Loki immediately stood up and moved toward her. He picked her up and returned to his previous seat. Her sobs were quiet, but Loki could feel her tears and stress.

"I thought your grandmother put you to bed," Loki whispered to his daughter. "Did you have a nightmare? Did something happen?"

Eira sniffled before answering. "I wanted to see if the Frost Giants got you. I faked going to sleep. Please don't be mad at me."

Loki sighed. He knew she might have been scared the Jotnar once they interrupted the ceremony. But he considered Eira to be braver than most children. She enjoyed listening to her father's stories of battle and the tales of the Nine Realms, though they contained slightly less gruesome details. Perhaps actually witnessing real Frost Giants created a different fear than the nonexistent ones she heard at bedtime.

"Eira, I could never be mad at you," said Loki as he stroked her hair. "I'm so sorry you were scared. Those Frost Giants would never hurt you. So many people will protect, and no one would dare harm you, you are too powerful."

Face still leaned against his chest, Eira smiled tiredly. "You really think I'm strong, Daddy?"

"Of course I do," Loki spoke in a hushed tone, attempting to lure Eira into sleep again. "And I know everyone else agrees with me."

Eira quickly fell asleep as she listened to her father's heartbeat. _She must have been genuinely exhausted,_ Loki thought. _Probably mustered all of her strength to find me. I should have done something about her overattachment to me years ago._

Loki shifted his eyesight from his daughter to his older brother, sitting on the floor and leaning against a pillar. He was angry and blood-hungry, ready for battle. The smile could not hide from Loki's face any longer. Out of all of his mischievous plans, this was the one that had no errors. Everything was flawless.

More manipulation was needed. If he said nothing, then Thor would not go to Jotunheim. A simple talk would convince Thor to go without the permission of Odin. The next few steps would require Loki to pull no strings; his father would take care of that.

Looking down at his daughter before standing up, he walked to Thor. He sat down and said nothing, waiting for Thor to make the first move. Thor immediately noticed the presence of his younger brother and niece, casting a swift glance at the father and daughter pair before returning his view to the Asgardian landscape.

"It's unwise to be in my company right now, brother," spoke Thor.

 _But it is a wise time to exploit,_ thought Loki.

* * *

Loki could not think, his mind preoccupied with the events of the battle.

 _I should be happy,_ he thought while watching his friends discuss and bicker over Thor's banishment. _Thor being exile was my highest hope, but I thought it would never happen. I thought Odin would just revoke his status as a prince, yet I somehow got the best possible outcome. I felt fortunate, but when that creature touched me… Why did I turn blue? I can't be one of them. I can't be one of those fucking monsters. The murals, the documents of my birth have existed since the day I was born. Was everything a lie this entire time? Am I a lie?_

When he finally joined the conversation, his statements were thoughtless, off the top of his head. He could not display weakness now; he had to seem sensible, be the voice of reason in a room of imbeciles.

Staying in this room was vain action, he knew. Sif and the Warriors sent vexing glances at him, but that was the least of his concerns.

The Vault had his answers, for it contained the Casket of Ancient Winters.

…

Loki Odinson saw the Casket of Ancient Winters standing at the end of the Vault. Glowing blue with dark grey embellishments, it sat on a long pillar, casting a tall shadow on the floor. The object held immense power, granting the holder the power to control the ice within. There was a twist, however. Only a Jotunn could utilize the Casket to its full potential. Still, if the Frost Giant using it were perhaps in disguise as a different creature, then the Casket would revert the user to their original form.

If Loki touched the Casket, would his skin turn sapphire like when that Frost Giant grabbed his armorless arm just hours ago?

He ambled toward the pedestal, eyes fixated on the mythical gadget. Grasping the handles, he lifted the Casket from its plinth and waited for the transformation to begin. His hands were shaking, anticipating the results. The moment his hands converted to their original hue, Odin entered the Vault.

"Stop"

Loki's hands froze in place. He did not turn to face his father, rather he looked at the gold on the wall, which reflected his image.

"Am I cursed?" Loki asked while remaining still.

"No," Odin quickly answered.

Loki wanted to retort, as his neck was shifting from pale to dark blue. He felt cursed, there was no other answer to explain what was happening. "Then what am I?"

"You're my son."

The casket returned to its pedestal the moment Loki saw his eyes turn red. He finally faced Odin, wanting his father to see the lie he desperately tried to hide. "What more than that?"

Odin did not dare to look at his son, ashamed to have been finally caught. He felt stuck, not knowing what to say. A weary and burdened attitude was rare for Odin, so Loki was surprised to see his father in such a vulnerable state. It was the perfect time to tell the All-Father his wrongdoing.

"The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?"

Odin finally gathered the courage he lacked in the past one thousand years: he told Loki the truth.

As Odin explained that after taking the Casket he had found King Laufey's smaller than average son and took him back to Asgard to raise him as his own, Loki realized that everything about his life was suddenly clearer. Why Odin preferred Thor over him and why he was constantly judged by the elder nobilities. He was never the son of Odin or even a person; he was a tool used to bring peace that would never be used.

"So why not tell me what I was from the beginning. Were you afraid of letting me know that I am the monster parents tell their children about at night? The tales of monsters that I tell my own daughter."

"Loki, please," said Odin with a weakened tone. He looked tired, not the strong king everyone saw him as.

"It all makes sense now. Why you favored Thor all these years. Because no matter how much you claim to 'love' me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!"

Odin sat on the steps on the Vault as Loki reasonably yelled at him. His eyes felt weak, he couldn't stay awake any longer. He did not want to fall into the Odinsleep now; he had to comfort his son, aid him in understanding himself.

The All-Father's body hit the floor. Loki forgot his anger as he moved to aid his withered father. He was about to check his pulse, but kept his hands at a distance, afraid that his Frost Giant skins would randomly come through and hurt his father more.

After calling for the guards, Loki Laufeyson watched them take Odin away.

* * *

The Odinsleep was held off for too long. The All-Father intended to enter his extensive slumber after Thor was declared king. Even if everything about the coronation went smoothly, Odin still procrastinated. In tandem with his confession about Loki's true parentage, his rest would be lengthier than usual.

As Odin was transferred to his resting bed, Frigga explained the circumstances of Loki and his adoption in a comforting manner. She spoke with a soft tone and sounded like a mother. Loki did not yell at her, as she seemed truly regretful for not revealing the truth sooner.

" _My son, I sincerely love you. I'm sorry for lying to you for so long. Do me a favor, do no let this revelation interfere with your royal duties. You are a king now. Before your first day, spend the night with your daughter. Well, it is rather late. Sorry for the doltish statement. Just be with Eira tomorrow morning. Explain the current situation and do not make her feel lonely. You're the only parent she has. Be her father and King of Asgard. Can you accomplish that?"_

Loki knew he would never sleep for the night. It was early in the morning and there was too much on his mind. He entered his chambers reflecting the plethora of information divulged in one day. The stress was temporarily diminished when his gaze fell upon his sleeping daughter. Eira was in the same sleeping position Loki settled her in hours ago. He stroked her soft cheek and smiled as she made a slight sound before she tranquilized.

His eyebrows creased in wonder. Eira was the sole Jotunn and Asgardian half-breed, no one knew what one looked like.

Activating his seidr, Loki redacted his glamour. Blue skin replaced snowy white and Loki flinched; he would never grow accustomed to his natural hue. Skin reacted upon skin. Eira's flesh transformed. Her pure form a pallid azure and her markings less deep, she appeared as the quintessential combination. As her glamour disappeared further on her face, Loki saw her forehead adorned with the Crown of the Ymir: the Jotnar symbol of royalty.

How would she handle being the first and only half-Jotunn half-Asgardian? The half-breed of two races with a diffuse history of pure hatred. Loki told her bedtime stories of battle with the Frost Giants and described them as blood-lusted, vicious monsters. Eira found entertainment in these narratives, interested in the ploys that destroyed the villains.

Would Runa have been accepting of her daughter if she knew the truth? Although his lover was a selfless and compassionate individual, she probably believed the Jotnar were homicidal and pernicious. Those tales were rooted in Asgardian folklore for centuries, so it most certainly had to affect their prejudices.

Eira was the only half-breed in existence, and the anatomy of the Jotnar was largely unknown. An Asgardian would get immediate frostbite if touched by a Frost Giant, so what would happen if a female member of the Aesir carried a half-Jotun child?

Loki redacted his hand from his daughter's cheek. _Is that why Runa died?_ he thought. _Was carrying a half-breed like Eira too much for her body?_

It all made sense now. Runa delivered a month early in Asgardian terms, but Eira was born perfectly healthy. The pregnancy length was the combination of the Asgardian and Jotunn gestation periods. She was often cold and ordered to bed-rest for most days. Giving birth, having a Jotunn, albeit a halfling, travel through her body had patently damaging consequences.

_Mother and Father, they knew Runa's pregnancy was precarious, yet they did nothing. There had to be others who knew about my parentage. How could they do nothing? They knew Runa was in danger and did not do shit. If the healers had treated her correctly and with more care, she would still be alive. Eira would have had a mother if it weren't for these fucking lies._

"Daddy? Why are you up?"

The new King turned around. Eira sat up on her bed, rubbing her eyes and clutching her plush toy, Hati. Loki moved to her bed and sat.

"I'm sorry to wake you up. A lot has happened tonight. I don't know if I will be able to sleep. That should not affect you, though."

Eira leaned her head against her father's hip as he stroked her unruly hair. "Is Uncle Thor okay? He seemed upset after the Frost Giants came."

Loki sighed. "No, he is not well. He made several grave mistakes. His anger led him to invade Jotunheim and your grand … the All-Father banished him to Midgard."

"Uncle Thor was banished?" Eira yelled with tears in her eyes. "I'm never going to see him again?"

"Eira, it's alright," Loki lifted his daughter and placed her on his lab. "Your uncle will return if he humbles. I don't know when that will happen. It stressed your grandfather into the Odinsleep, and so I am now King."

"You're the King?" the princess asked but did not wait for an answer. She cried into Loki's chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt and Hati.

"My little one, why are you upset? I know things are difficult, but we will overcome them?"

"I glad you're the King because I know you wanted it, but you will be too busy. You wouldn't spend time with me anymore. I want you to teach me magic and play with me. You can't do that as King."

"Eira, I will never forget you. Although you may not see me as much, I will find time to spend with you. Every morning I will wake you up, braid your wild hair, and eat breakfast with you. At night I will read your favorite stories and tell tales of my battles. A king has duties to his nation but must regard his fatherly tasks. You're my daughter, the best thing to ever happen to me. I will continue to teach you magic and watch you grow. I love you, my little one."

"Daddy, you better not be lying," Eira said as she wiped her tears.

"I would never lie to you." Loki kissed her forehead. "Would you like to sleep with me in my bed tonight?"

Eira nodded lazily against his chest. She had awoken too many times tonight, her body was surely exhausted. The grip on Hati and Loki's overgarments weakening with each wearied eye flutter. Loki stood up and walked to his bed, rocking her tiny form into slumber. He could keep his royal clothing on for the rest of the night. His debilitation was taking control of his body. Any movements would disrupt Eira's sleep.

The princess was asleep by the time Loki laid them on his bed. He pulled the covers over them pull. His eyes could not escape his daughter's face, she was truly precious, innocent. The first moment he held her, he almost cried; afraid that letting her go would create danger.

Laufey discarded him the moment he was born, his small stature disrespectful to the power and brutality of the Jotnar. The Frost Giants hated his presence and left him to die in an abandoned temple. He knew they were heartless, but sentencing one of their own to death for a birth defect was beyond atrocious. Transporting himself to that fateful day, he tried imagining placing his runt daughter alone, left to die in a forsaken location with no one knowing of her existence. He felt like crying; the idea of leaving Eira to diminish bringing too many distraught emotions.

If they kept him, he would certainly be the King of Jotunheim. Then none of this mischief would have occurred. The Jotnar would respect his royal status and he could live perfectly. But he never would have meant Runa; Eira would be nonexistent.

If he remembered correctly, Laufey's wife, Faurbati, died around the same time Odin discovered him. They must have killed her, Loki deduced. Although she successfully gave birth to two strong sons beforehand, her life was meaningless once she birthed a runt. Laufey took no blame for convincing such a minuscule boy.

All of the Jotnar, every single one, were callous. Raised upon malicious morals, they were selfish and ignoble by nature. They were a negative influence on all the realms. Loki would never be one of them. He had to destroy them all. They would start a war soon enough, giving him the perfect excuse to wipe them from the universe.

Odin would be proud of his son. Eira would be safe.

* * *

Everything went to shit.

The plan was faultless, but Thor had to become humble. Fall in love with human scum, sacrifice himself for a small town, become worthy the moment his plane was about to become successful. Who cared if the nobility was against him? The only thing that could ruin his plan was Thor, and here he was. The brothers were battling to the death, and Loki held his pride and stature, but Mjolnir was powerful.

And to make everything worse, Odin appeared and displayed affection for Thor, and disappoint for Loki.

"Father, I could have done it was us. For all of us!" Loki yelled in desperation as he held onto Thor's leg while they dangled from the broken Bifrost Bridge.

Odin would usually give a long speech regarding wisdom, but he simply shook his head.

Loki's heart broke. Odin was disheartened and unforgiving toward him. After lifting the brothers, Loki would be sent to prison, likely for the rest of his life. Eira would be told of her treasonous father and the Asgardians would look upon her with shame, the reminder of a man who attempted genocide.

His eyes looked to the abyss below him. He was an expert in the many transportations to the other realm, yet even he was unaware of what lay below. It was not death but could be anything else. Whatever it was, Loki would survive. He would find Eira, take her away, and escape between the realms until they found one in secrecy. If he landed where there were people, he would comply until his ultimate betrayal, and then find Eira.

Everything would work out. It might be difficult for Eira, but her father would return.

And with that, he let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki fakes his death so much but everybody believes he is dead every single time. Fucking idiots.  
> Also, feel free to comment. I will probably respond because it will distract me from the chaos that is life.


	4. Valhalla Can Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My plans went terribly astray, and now my daughter must suffer.
> 
> I am so sorry for making you go through this anguish, Eira. Perhaps my schemes were selfish. 
> 
> Daddy will make everything better, I promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this may seem out of no where, but black lives matter.
> 
> I am absolutely disgusted by the news of Daniel Prude and disappointed that Elijah McClain and Breonna Taylor's killers have not been arrested. Black Lives Matter is not a trend, but a fight for human rights.

The atmosphere was distorted.

When Eira awoke in the morning, she ate breakfast with Loki in her chambers, rather than the dining hall. Her father usually kept an indifferent composure, but he was anxious. Eira saw his hands, twitching at an inconsistent rate. She noticed and put her small hand on his, smiling as her father lifted his head in confusion, but he too eventually grinned back.

The happiness was temporary.

Grabbing the horns of his helmet, he gave a simple order to his daughter: "Stay in our chambers. Don't leave until I come back. There is a danger at the moment. If you get hungry, there is food in the cabinets. Please, Eira. I cannot let you get hurt."

Eira nodded. One he put his helmet on, he felt a force against his legs. He looked down, seeing his daughter hugging his leg with her mother's grin on her face. Kneeling to her height, Loki rubbed her raven curls and pulled her into a hug.

"I love you," he said before leaving the room.

She was alone for four hours. Reading, drawing, practicing magic, she passed the time with ease. During breakfast, her father mentioned war, so she assumed he was probably fighting. Frigga, her grandmother, had been by the All-Father's side for days, waiting hopelessly for him to wake. Unlike the other times, while Loki was away, there was no one to watch her.

The person to open the doors of her chambers was Loki. Yet when the doors diverted, sunshine slowly entering and erasing the shadows, Sif appeared.

"Oh, thank, Valhalla!" Sif said with relief. She ran to Eira with her arms open, closing them around the princess when she was at a close distance. "We were so worried. Thor demanded I look for you. Oh wait, I was supposed to tell him. Thor! I found Eira!"

Burly footsteps echoed through the halls. They stopped at the doors, replaced with alleviation. After all the bloodshed, family feuds, and abandonment of a lover, Thor was pleased to see his niece alive and well.

"Eira."

Thor removed his niece from the hold of Sif. Lifted into his defiant hold in seconds, Eira floundered to adjust her sights. She should have been beatific that her uncle had returned from his banishment, but she was confused. Her father said he would retrieve her from their chambers once the battle had finished. Where was he?

"Uncle Thor?" Eira asked, lifting her head in Thor's tight hold. "Did Daddy tell you to get me? Where is he?"

No answer came.

Thor and Sif froze their movements. The latter looked at the distance; no destination or object of particular interest, words escaped her mind, scared of the reaction of the three-year-old an arm's length away, but Eira paid no attention. Her senses restricted to Thor, she felt his grasp moderating, his heartbeat quickening, and the loud echo of his panicked breaths.

Jade-colored eyes widened. The atmosphere thickened in uneased malformation. Eira needed information about the whereabouts of her father, not lost answers.

"What happened to my daddy? Where is he?" Her voice weakened and trembled, the unusually strong demeanor of the princess drifting. The adults continued their silence, though their fear intensified.

They should have answered sooner. With a switch, Eira cried rivers. Thor looked at his quaving niece, his eyes alluding an abundance of sympathy.

"Eira, your fath ... uh, your father is gone," Thor struggled to speak. Would he dare mention the cruel fate of death to a being with purely three and a half years of life? "He fell into the abyss." That was a fine enough description, right?

Eira's wails became hysterical. She screamed in desperation, wanting nothing more than the warm, consoling embrace of her father.

"Daddy can't be gone, he can't be!" she yelled and kicked. "He promised me! He promised me that he would never leave me! He wouldn't leave me! It's not true. Daddy wouldn't leave!"

Her words become more frantic, mind a jumble of trepidation, and body containing too much stress for a toddler. A heartbreaking sight, even for the heartless. In a matter of hours, Loki, the most important person in Eira's world, vanished. Her mother passed before she could form memories, and now her father joined his lover in Valhalla.

But it stopped in a flash.

Tears turned into profound breaths. Hot air emanated from Eira's mouth, not closed, unlike her eyes, shut with exhaustion. Her fists and feet discontinued squirming, landing softly on various parts of her uncle's body. Her head rested on his silver-plated shoulder, curls disordered from the tantrum. Snot and cries ceased forming, but uncleaned from Thor's armor.

"I hate using magic on my loved ones."

Looking at the source of the voice, Thor and Sif saw Frigga standing in the doorway. Guilt coursed through her face. She used her seidr to pacify her granddaughter, an uncharacteristic move. Enemies were a perfect target for manipulation through magic, but allies, especially family, blood or not, was dissolute. Thor and Sif considered urging the All-Mother further, but her expression held the answer.

"Thor," she began once their attention focused on her. "Your father wants to speak with you. You did enough for Eira at the moment. Do not fret, my son, I will watch over her."

The god observed his niece. Her position had not changed, though the warmth from her breath had modestly iced. Eira required monitoring; her emotions would certainly depress her state. How her attitude would shift because of Loki's unexpected death was unknown, but no one would wait. Immediate treatment was needed. Thor wanted the task. Though his adopted brother committed suicide, there was a speck of iniquity in his gut. In his nonrational brain - with some canniness added during the dramatic weekend - concluded caring for Eira in his place was the correct force of action.

The All-Father vitalized a battle report, temporarily overshadowing the care for the young princess.

Thor walked to his mother, handing her the limp weight. Eira grunted when placed in Frigga's hold, though soon settled. Frigga rubbed her back while she watched her son leave. Sif stood in the middle of the room, witnessing mother and son interact. Currently, she had no duties at the moment, and her strong relationship with the princess created a protective behavior.

"All-Mother, is there anything I can do to help you care for Eira? I care deeply for her and want to make sure that she is alright, especially after today."

Frigga nodded. "Understandable. Can you get her a new garment from the drawer? Her current one is slightly dirty, not the best to sleep in."

"Got it." Sif turned and looked through the drawers, sorting the clothes to see what belonged to Eira. A turquoise dress with black embellishments caught her eye. It appeared secure and suitable for rest, as Eira would probably remain in her chambers for the remainder of the day.

"I assume this is appropriate?" Sif asked as she presented the dress.

"That will work," responded Frigga. "Grab her stuffed toy, Hati. It will help her rest peacefully."

Sif nodded and gave Frigga the dress. While the warrior searched for Hati, Frigga laid Eira on her bed and removed her clothes, which was not the easiest task, as she made quick movements whenever she felt the seams of her clothes rubbing against her skin. The new outfit fit her flawless and her lack of abrupt twitches meant she was comfortable.

"I found it," proclaimed Sif as Frigga placed her granddaughter on the pillow, pulling the blanket over her small form. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"

Putting Hati between Eira's arm and hip, she shook her head. "I can care for her on my own at the moment. You should go find Thor and then go home. You traveled through the realms today, so your body must be wary."

"I cannot deny my exhaustion," Sif laughed. "But do you mind if, in the future, I can help Eira more. This has to be difficult for her. The more people she has supporting her, the better."

Frigga smiled. "Thank you for your selflessness, Lady Sif. I shall contact you if she needs anything."

"It is no problem."

Sif left the room, shutting the door and leaving the All-Mother and princess alone. Frigga stroked her granddaughter's cheek, feeling her warm and smooth skin against her distressed thumbs. She had no idea about how Eira would be behaving after today. Surely her mood would shift, but how it would and its length were unknown.

"I'm so sorry, my little Eira."

* * *

Flæskesteg, a pork roast with a crispy rind, with a Västerbotten cheese sauce filled the bellies of the nobilities of Asgard. The inhabitants of the dining room ate in large servings and drank kiloliters of beer. Normally, Thor would lead in such gluttonous behavior, but his astray mind prevented his actions.

His mother had not left Eira's side since the early afternoon. Frigga probably desired to interact with her people but would refuse to leave her granddaughter alone. The boasting and praises tired Thor, making him want the comfort of his niece in her quiet chambers.

Thor knocked on the doors of Eira's chamber. He heard a person stand up, the sound of their footsteps becoming closer. The door opened with his mother in the frame, a warm smile on her face when she saw her eldest.

"Hello, Mother," he greeted. "You must be starving. The chefs made Flæskesteg, and there is plenty in the dining hall. I brought some for Eira. When she wakes, I'm sure she will be hungry."

"Thank you for the offer, my son," she spoke in an exhausted tone. "But I need to watch Eira. She will wake soon, surely in distress. I have to be there when she does."

"Mother," Thor firmly interrupted. "You have been by her side for hours. Please, for my sake and yours, interact with those in the dining hall. I can watch Eira for the night. I'm her uncle, she trusts me."

Frigga appeared unsure. She glanced at Eira's sleeping form and sighed.

"Alright, Thor. I'll go and eat. But beware, she will not be happy when she wakes."

Nodding and patting his shoulder, she walked past Thor to the dining hall. He looked through the ajar door, seeing Eira leaning against Hati and her pillow, drool leaking from her mouth. The door opened further with minimal noise, no stir from the sleeping princess. He walked in and shut the door behind him, setting the meal on a nearby table. An unoccupied chair stood near Eira's bed, which Thor decided to sit so he could observe his niece.

He rubbed his sore muscles and glanced at the empty space of Loki's bed. His little brother was dead, but it didn't feel real. Everyone who knew Loki felt the same. The scenario of his death was mysterious. He could understand why Loki would not want to face punishment for his actions and the disappointment of his father, but he would never leave Eira. After the death of Runa, he vowed to raise his daughter as a single father, never to leave her in the permanent care of anyone else. His desire to rule was nothing compared to the love he had for Eira. Did his daughter not cross his mind when he fell into the abyss? Did he want to leave Eira as an orphan, despite his strong fatherly instincts?

"Mmm … Daddy?"

Thor lifted his head, perceiving Eira sitting up from her bed as she rubbed her eyes, several strands of her curls in differing directions. Removing her small hands, she glanced around the room, not interested in her uncle, but something else.

"Daddy should have been back by now," she deduced after failing to find him. Sobs formed soon after, her body curling into a ball.

"Eira, please don't cry," pleaded Thor as he moved to his niece's side. "It's alright. Everything is okay. I'm right here."

"No! I don't want you. I want Daddy. Where is he? Tell me! Please."

Eira's phrases became desperate the more she spoke. Thor sighed. "I told you, he's gone. I'm so sorry."

"That's not true. He promised he would not leave me! He said he wouldn't go to Valhalla like Mummy."

"What? When did you …" Thor spoke with shock. "How do you know about Valhalla?"

"I asked Daddy about her a few months ago. He said she had to go there because she was sick and that I would never see her until I'm supposed to go. But Daddy promised he wouldn't go. He didn't lie to me, I know it."

Her cries were bordering on hysterical, which Thor wanted to prevent, but clueless on the correct method.

"Eira, I know that you miss your father. We all do, but he wouldn't want you to cry. Even if he is not physically here, he still loves you. He wants you to be happy, grow up to be a strong woman."

The mood shifted, though the atmosphere continued to be somewhat depressing. Eira was stubborn, so she would not settle easily.

"But I want him to be here!" Eira yelled, pounding her fists against her uncle's chest. "It's not fair!"

"I know this situation is unfair, but you cannot continue to sadden yourself. I brought you dinner. Although it's rather late, you need to eat. Please eat, Eira. Your father would want you to."

Eira huffed and whined, her sobs terminated, but dejection still ran through her body. "I guess I can eat, but I want to sleep afterward. I don't know why, but I'm tired."

Thor smiled, placing her on a desk before grabbing the food from the table. When he went back to Eira, he almost laughed. The proportion of desk to toddler comedically wide. Loki would surely jest about the situation, but now was not the time for jokes. He set the meal on the desk and lifted Eira, sitting down and putting her on his lap. Eira stared at the food, hesitant to eat. Thor was about to speak about her uncertainty, but she soon heated the pork with her magic, grabbing a knife and fork.

Dinner was quiet, the sounds of the cutting of food and Eira's chewing resonating through the room, but no talk. Thor watched his niece eat, his eyes alert for any problems she might have. Once her plate emptied, Eira set down her utensils and leaned her head back, her body ready for another bout of rest.

"Uncle Thor? Can you read me a story from the book Daddy always reads to me? My favorite is _Sigurd and the Dragon_. And if you don't mind, can I sleep in his bed? I like the smell of Daddy. It's nice."

Her sense of smell was incredible, unheard of children her age. People assumed it was a consequence of her overattachment to her father, which would certainly make accepting his death very difficult for her. But if sleeping his bed - approximately quadruple her size - would diminish her stress, then what was the harm?

"Alright then."

Not bothering to change her clothes, Thor hoisted his drowsy niece and perched in the middle of her father's bed. Eira grabbed Hati, holding him tightly while Thor looked for her favorite storybook.

Loki was a remarkable storyteller. The method in which he phrased and emphasized lines improved any tale. Thor tried his absolute best, but his attempt to replicate his brother's style was a defiant fail. Eira had complaints, but the combination of her father's soothing smell, the fluffy texture of Hati, and the words from the treasured story erased all faults. On a terrible day, several things going right made everything acceptable. Halfway through, she fell asleep, the most peaceful she felt all day.

* * *

A giant strolled into a dark room, no walls in view, shadows covering the floor. The mysterious aura was a natural part of his home. Hidden from view, he could plan his tyrannies and observe civilizations. He hated individuals, people who tried too hard to prove their skill and uniqueness, but there was a disturbance in his lovely home. Normally, he would feign indifference during their first meeting, then display anger, annoyance at their untimely disruption. To quell his irritation, he would take their life. Choke them until their eyes popped out, squeeze their head, and wait for an unhealthy amount of blood to puke from their mouths, beat them to a bloody pulp, make their faces unrecognizable. The blood and flesh on his gauntlet solaced him.

For the first time in decades, he found interest in a being who, according to his subordinates, literally fell from the sky, no injuries, and no hesitation as he stood up and stabbed the lives of the Chitauri away. The man held high regard for himself, his gold plates on a long green jacket, and horned helmet speaking volumes.

Finding the man was not difficult, as he made no effort to hide. In fact, he seemed happy when meeting the giant.

"Are you the man who rules this realm?" the newcomer asked, knife in hand, purple blood on his plates.

The giant laughed. "You could say that. Quite a courageous man, killing my soldiers and asking me questions. Are you royalty?"

The man twitched. "The righteous heir to two thrones."

"If you rule two kingdoms, then why are you here? Shouldn't you and your mawkish wardrobe be commanding armies?"

"I should be, but I was dropped into your abyss. My actions were correct, but they refused to see it that way. They took away my rights and separated me from my young daughter."

Upon the mention of his daughter, his tone sobered, shoulders sagged for a brief moment. The Titan strongly disliked sentiment, but he was a father who also adored his daughter.

"I understand how you feel. I have a daughter as well. Her name is Gamora. She is an adult now, but I will always see her as my little girl."

The man did not move but seemed to relax, the slight relatability in their situations made the situation less tense. The giant could sense great power in the man, possibly prove usual in his quest for the Stones.

"I have something to offer you, but first, tell me your name."

The raven-haired man turned and smiled, his grin wicked with anticipation.

"I am Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim. And you? Who are you, and what do you offer me?"

"They call me Thanos, the Mad Titan. For you, I offer a glorious purpose."

* * *

Eira was typically a joyous child, some slightly errant behavior and the occasional stubbornness, but she always eluded excitement. She demonstrated excitement when learning and courage while practicing magic. But for the past month, she kept to herself. She interacted with others when necessary, otherwise, she maintained an unusually quiet composure. She preferred being alone, but her family tried to comfort her often, so she was rather annoyed most of the time.

"My granddaughter, what are you doing in the garden by yourself?"

Turning her head while continuing to kneel and observe the flowers, Eira saw Frigga entering the gardens. Thor leaned against the entrance, watching for any irregularities in their conversation.

"I was looking at the flowers," Eira said in a monotone voice. "They're quite pretty."

"Indeed, they are beautiful," responded Frigga. "You have not learned any new magic recently. I can teach you some now."

"But you're not my teacher."

Thor's blue eyes widened. Frigga probably thought teaching her magic would be simple, but Loki had taught Eira since her first mission. She was a stubborn girl, most likely not allowing anyone else to teach her beside her father. The All-Mother held her tender smile, serious about her request. Perhaps she had a method: making Eira recognize that Loki could no longer teach her.

"The skill of teaching is not limited. I have some useful techniques."

"But Daddy is my teacher. You taught him, so he teaches me. Why are you not waiting for him?"

"Your magic cannot wait. You need to learn, not repeat the same tricks."

"Stop lying!" Eira yelled, standing up with tears in the corners of her eyes. Hands clenched and feet firm, she stared into her grandmother's eyes, challenging her strategy. "Everyone won't stop lying to me. No one is telling the truth about Daddy. Something happened to him, but everyone is silent. Why are people being dishonest? I hate it. I hate it so much. Why won't it stop?"

Frigga did not have the time to speak, as Eira ran out of the garden, pushing the All-Mother while she rushed to the exit. Thor grabbed his niece before she could successfully leave. She kicked his stomach, but he felt nothing.

"Eira!" he scolded. "You cannot talk to your grandmother that way!"

"I don't care! Let me go!"

Thor winced randomly, making him let go of Eira. When he looked at his waist, there was a spark of green. Eira had used her magic to attack him. He glanced up, but all he saw was Eira's foot.

Frigga touched her son's shoulder as he sighed. "This is going to be tougher than we thought. Her overattachment to Loki should have been fixed long ago."

Thor put his hand on his forehead. It had been a month, yet Eira was showing no signs of improvement.

"Patience is not my greatest skill, but I'm trying for her. I'll eat dinner with her in her chambers. I don't believe it is appropriate for her to be with people. It is best for her to learn more magic, so I will talk to her."

Eira did not know it, but she needed those around her to be patient. If people could help her behavior, then maybe she would grow. She could become herself again.

* * *

To most Asgardians, the equivalent of a month was less than the blink of an eye yet Loki felt like an eternity had passed. The longest time he was separated from his daughter was a week. Not physically seeing her, braiding her ebony curls, interacting with her.

The Other was an egotistical master. He considered himself wise and powerful, but his decrepit form and cowardice nature were laughable. Thanos was the true master. The Titan had infinite knowledge and technology, the capabilities to persuade others to his cause, and unmatchable strength. The Other bowed in his presence, displaying his true character: inadequate and subservient.

Loki gained the trust of Thanos and discovered his master plan. He wanted all six of the Infinity Stones, not for power or glory, but to erase half of the universe's population. It was ambitious and too hopeful. In his centuries of searching, he had only found one: the Mind Stone. If Thanos had not offered Loki the chance to rule the remains of Midgard by using his only stone and the Chitauri, he would have laughed in the Titan's face. Thanos's destiny was not to be a god. The search for all the stones would take eons, time Thanos did not have. Loki, an actual god, stayed silent. He would not risk to scold his master and lose the only chance he had to be with Eira again.

Loki's apparition finally had the chance to talk with Eira. A month after his "death", he teleported himself to her chambers, in the dark of the night without the chance of anyone walking up and discovering his livelihood. He would only interact with her, shielding himself from Heimdall's view and making Eira promise to stay quiet.

Her bed was empty, sheets tucked perfectly, pillow flat on the mattress as if she was never there. Loki nearly panicked, worried that his adoptive family sent her away. Behind him, there was a light snore. He turned, seeing a small lump on his bed, the form's chest moving up and down. Further investigating, he saw Eira sleeping. Her hair sprawled over the pillow, arm tucked tightly around Hati, nose placed near the hem of the blanket, making him smile, but he soon retracted.

 _She missed me,_ he thought as he kneeled to see her face better. _The overattachment was never resolved. She has an amazing sense of smell, so my bed must comfort her. Has she been crying? Shit. What have I done?_

"Eira," he whispered to her deep-sleeping form, casting a sound diminishing spell. "Eira, wake up."

The princess groaned in her sleep, fluttering her eyes and attempting to remain asleep. Her green eyes opened for a full second before shutting, but they went wide open after she saw her father's figure. She sat up, a smile on her face, arms open for a hug.

"Daddy! You're here!"

"Yes, Eira. I'm here. And I missed you so-"

Eira leaned to hug her father but went right through him. Loki used his telekinesis to prevent her from falling. His magic moved her back to the bed. Eira looked at him with confusion.

"I'm sorry, Eira but I cannot physically be with you at the moment. I am working to come back and take you somewhere safe. It might take a while, but just know that I love you."

"You … you're leaving again. Why are you doing this? Daddy, why?"

She cried so often lately, almost second nature. It was a painful action, she wanted it to stop. She thought if her father returned, the tears would stop falling. He rose from the dead but said goodbye again. The emotions would not end.

"Eira! Please don't cry. I will visit you whenever I can. After my work is complete, we can be together again. We will hug, play, and practice magic again. I promise you."

He sat on the bed, magically moving a blanket to wrap around his daughter. Eira rubbed her nose and clenched the blanket.

"You wouldn't want to be around me, Daddy. I've been a bad girl."

"How?" Loki asked, raising his eyebrow. "You have always a mischievous streak thanks to me, but you are generally well-behaved."

"I get mad at Uncle Thor and grandmother too much. Today I zapped him with my seidr after I yelled at grandmother. She wanted to teach me magic, but I want to wait for you. It wasn't right. Everyone is nice to me, but I think they are hiding their anger."

"Eira, none of this is your fault. I left without warning. I am sorry for making you confused. Can you do something for me? I want to listen to your uncle and grandmother. Thor can teach you battle techniques and my mother can practice magic with you, educate you with new tricks. I don't like to see you sad, no one does. I know life is hard without me, and I find it difficult to not be with you, but we have to show strength."

The air was silent. Eira looked into the apparition's eyes. "Daddy, I miss you. I'm sorry for causing trouble."

"I should apologize to you. I have been a terrible father. We will be together again, I promise with all my heart. I can visit, my time allows it. At night, you can show me what you have learned, and I can tell you tales of my work. You cannot tell a soul about our interactions, for my plans will be ruined and it may take longer for us to see each other. Can you do that?"

Eira nodded. "I can do it, Daddy! I'm happy as long as I'm with you. Umm… Thor and grandmother have been reading me bedtime stories. I like them, but you tell them better. Can you tell me a story? I'm really tired."

Loki smiled. "Or course I can. I love you too much to say no."

Eira fell asleep as Loki told a tale about a battle from long ago. He described the details of how he fought, the eventual defeat of the enemy, and the celebration afterward. Loki stared at her sleeping form and disappeared.

About once a week, father and daughter met, explaining their adventures without telling a soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would normally put a joke here, but it would seem inconsiderate given my beginning notes. 
> 
> Just remember: defund the police.


	5. Assemble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For two years, I could only interact with my daughter via an illusion. I had to watch her achievements and firsts from afar. 
> 
> After all my planning, I can finally rule. Prove myself against those Asgardian royals. Demonstrate why they should not have overlooked my potential.
> 
> Eira will have the opportunities I never had.
> 
> And most importantly, I can hug her once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki whenever someone mentions the Tesseract:  
> 

"This past week has been so exciting! Grandmother taught me how to transform my appearance to another person. She said I am doing well so far, but I still need practice to master it. Once I do that, I will learn how to turn into animals and other living beings. I want to become a skilled sorceress like her."

Loki smiled as he watched his three-year-old describe her week in an elated manner. "Eira, you will become so powerful. How you approach learning is mesmerizing. How are your other studies going? Literature? Arithmetic?"

"It's alright," the princess sighed. "It feels easy. Uncle Thor says it's because I'm so smart, but grandmother mentioned I have an ancient ability to understand any language. The feather birthmark on my back, I got it from Mummy. According to grandmother, I have to hide it, even from my tutor, or I might be attacked."

"She just wants to keep you safe, as do I. Pretending is a skill of yours, so act slightly less smart than you already are. Remember, you are an intelligent girl. You are my daughter."

Eira nodded. "Thanks, Daddy."

Loki sat down on the floor, adjusting his hold of the scepter. "My work will be done soon. In a few days, we can be together again."

His daughter sat down. "I can't wait! I miss your hugs. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"I appreciate it, my little one."

"Is that little gem on your scepter important?"

Loki moved his hands up his weapon, the glow of the mind stone. He smiled as he thought of its incredible power. With the stone in possession, he could control the minds of others with a simple touch. They would bend to his will, accomplish his goals without a second thought.

The Mind Stone had a small streak of independence. Without his knowledge, the stone was influencing Loki's mind. After his fall, he felt a duty to serve his father and him proud, but the stone created hatred. As time passed, he loathed his father for not deeming him as worthy and being disappointed with his treatment of the Jotnar. In revenge, Loki would conquer one of his realms, Midgard, and destroy its freedoms and peace. And Thor just had to be the perfect son and warrior. Worthy of a powerful weapon held by a substantially small population. When he fought his brother on the Bifrost, Loki still cared for him. Now, it was pure hatred. Detestation toward the man he was raised with, the man who let him fall into the abyss, seemingly to his death.

Yet the stone had its benefits. It strengthened the fatherly love to his daughter, increasing his sense to protect her from harm. He wanted to raise her, aid her in becoming a warrior and master of magic in a way that would make her mother proud.

"This gem is commanding," Loki finally answered. "Its power is immeasurable. Only stout beings can use the gem to its full potential. One day, peradventure in the next decade, you can weld it."

"Really? You think I will become that powerful."

"Of course, you can. You are my daughter. Your teachers and family have the arts and strengths of a thousand planets. The schedule in which you learn charms, your fortitude shall be forcible and respected."

Eira blushed. "I love you, Daddy. I hope you succeed."

Loki smiled as he stood up. "I do not plan for failure. Do not fret, everything will run its course. We will be together again. We can play and learn all you want. I love you more than anything, Eira. Goodbye."

The princess waved at her father's apparition as he walked toward the wall, his fake self disappearing in green shards. Eira climbed onto her bed, formally Loki's, and pulled the covers over herself. Hati held tensely against her chest, Eira fell asleep with the comfort of her stuffed animal and the smell of her father's bedsheets. In her dreams, she and Loki played in a tranquil field, his mission accomplished, and their smiles endless.

* * *

Twenty-three months.

Twenty-three months after Loki fell from the Bifrost, Heimdall found him.

He immediately went to Odin, vividly describing the location. Frigga overheard the conversation and intervened when they discussed how to retrieve him. According to Heimdall, Loki's demeanor exhaled anger. He had a plan to destroy Midgard, but it was not by his own will. He was working for a giant and a cloaked man. Loki had some independence: his strategy to conquer Earth involved an invasion with pre-provided soldiers. The Loki who fell had an ego and occasional vicious nature, but his heart partially motivated his actions. In his current form, there was nothing but a blood-lust.

She teleported an apparition of herself to his lair. Appearing in front of him, she greeted him with pity. His initially shocked expression turned to annoyance. He turned around, not daring to face his mother during her speech about his positive rationale.

Pleading to his humanity, she noticed his broad shoulders and straight stance. Her speech was fruitless, his stance arrogant with power. He was passionate about his plan, ignoring his former benevolent mindset.

Upon the mention of Eira, his form softened. His body twitched and the grip on his scepter tightened. The hubris returned, but he spoke.

"Eira knew about my presence."

His mouth closed again.

With tears in the corner of her eyes, her faulty form disappeared. She looked around, the gold and beige walls of the palace a stark contrast to shadows of his lair. Perhaps it was a cave or a room hidden underground. Maybe the structure of his new home revealed his true feelings.

Frigga told Odin and Thor - told about Loki while he chatted with his mother - about the differences in his attitude and how it influenced his dictatorial plan. Thor was angry and ready for battle, Odin thinking to himself about the correct method to stop his adoptive son. Before they could say anything, Frigga repeated the only thing Loki said during their hostile interaction.

An hour before dinner, Thor knocked on Eira's door, Frigga by his side with her arms crossed.

"Thor! Grandma! Come in!"

Thor looked at his mother confused. How in the Nine Realms did she know who was outside of her chambers? Frigga mouthed "magic, perhaps" before her son opened the door.

Eira was reading a book on her bed, engrossed in the pages and barely noticing her family entering. Confused as to who would be speaking first, Thor glanced at Frigga, his eyebrow raised. The All-Mother nodded and looked at her granddaughter.

"Eira, darling. Can we speak to you for a moment?"

The princess looked up from her story, green orbs attended at her grandmother.

"What is it?"

Frigga sighed as she sat down on the bed. Thor followed suit.

"Eira, we discovered something today."

"What was it?" the toddler asked innocently.

"Well, how do I explain this? Heimdall saw your father, alive and well."

"Really?" Eira stood up on her bed, feigning ignorance. "Where is he? Can I see him?"

Thor spoke this time. "We know where he is and your grandmother spoke to him, but he revealed some interesting information. He said he has visited you. Is that true?"

Eira's face went red. She sat back on her bed, clenching the nearest blanket and avoiding eye contact.

"I don't know what he is talking about," she lied.

"Eira," Frigga spoke again, her voice firm. "Do not lie to us. Your father is planning something dangerous. I don't mind that you were keeping secrets, but if you told him anything, you need to tell us."

The raven-haired girl took rapid breaths. She felt a force sit on her bed and a hand touch her shoulder in comfort. Looking up, she saw Thor with a soft expression.

"I know you love your father and want to see him. For us, tell us anything suspicious he told you. I promise, we will bring him back to see you, we just need the information to do so."

Tears fell down Eira's cheeks. Thor lifted her body and placed it on his lap. He stroked her hair as Frigga rubbed her arm.

"I just wanted to see him again," she said sobbing. "I miss him so much. He said that once he's done with his mission, he'll be back in his true form."

"I understand your feelings," commented Frigga, removing a stray hair in front of Eira's face. "Take your time."

Eira sniffed and rubbed a falling tear from her cheek. "Daddy mentioned a gem he had on his scepter that could control people's minds. Then he said he loved me. Please don't hurt him."

"We'll get him home safely," Thor reassured.

"I'm sorry for putting you under such stress, my lovely grandmother. Let me and you eat here tonight. I'll teach you magic and read you a bedtime story. Would you like that?"

Eira nodded while rubbing her eyes.

"Thor, my son, go to your father. Report to him and talk about the next move."

Thor placed Eira back on her bed. "Good idea, mother. Eira, thank you. I will return your father to you."

"Thanks," said Eira in a weak voice.

Her uncle left the room. Eira looked at her grandmother, tears attempting to escape her eyes.

"Is Daddy doing something bad?"

"Oh, Eira, no. We need to prevent him from making a mistake. If you ever feel in doubt, remember that he loves you very much."

Eira leaned against her, sinking further into her hold when she felt Frigga wrap her arms. She thought silently, wishing for Loki to return soon. When he did, she would give him the biggest hug.

* * *

Defeat was a punishment. The chains choking the veins. The small confinements of jail cells, inhuman in nature. The stares of protectors and observers, their irises looking at the shamed walk of the prisoner, feeling superior for once in their lives.

But defeat was a genius tactic in war.

The moment Clint Barton mentioned Bruce Banner - a meek man who could turn into the strongest being on Earth with a simple emotion - Loki knew he would be the perfect weapon. Barton had knowledge of every hall and corner in the S.H.I.E.L.D Helicarrier. Anyone could get angry at any time, so making the scientist irate would be simple.

Loki planned his capture before Barton mentioned what he needed. The archer needed a distraction and key to the vault of iridium. He got to stab a man in the eye and be captured by candidates for the Avengers afterward; it was the perfect situation.

His body was still during the jet ride. The tight straps and metal chains were bothersome, but a small nuisance that could not override the excitement for his conquering. He almost voiced his for Captain America, who somehow considered that Loki had orchestrated his capture.

The jet rumbled and reflected the sound of thunder. What the fuck? he thought as he looked at the roof, wondering if his least favorite person was on top. Loki showed a light amount of fear, earning a quip from Tony Stark. He couldn't focus on Iron Man's jesting, the hope that Thor would not appear washing away.

Thor made a godly entrance, ripping the doors off the jet and releasing Loki from his straps just by grabbing him. They flew through the air and Thor landed with ease, while Loki fell onto the ground, yet his smile and laughter were natural.

"I missed you, too," The first words Loki said to Thor in two years.

Thor did not return with a greeting. "Do I look to be in a gaming mood?"

"Oh, you should thank me. With the Bifrost gone how much dark energy did the Allfather have to muster to conjure you here? Your precious Earth." Loki answered.

"I thought you were dead."

"Did you mourn?"

"We all did. How could you do that to Eira? She was so distraught."

"You think I don't feel bad for causing my daughter such pain. I thought about her everyday. This plan will benefit her and me. I will rule this pathetic realm and take her with me. The two of us will live in peace, no one thinking of us as inferior because of our Jotun heritage."

"Loki, you can't possibly think you are better than humans. Father raised us..."

"Your father," Loki interrupted. "I'm sure they told you the truth in my absence. While Asgard tried to repair the mess you made, I've seen worlds you've never known about! I have grown, Odinson, in my exile! I have seen the true power of the Tesseract, and when I wield it…"

"Who showed you this power? Who controls the would-be-king?"

"I am a king!"

"Not here! You give up the Tesseract! You give up this poisonous dream! You come home."

"I don't have it. You need the cube to bring me home, but I've sent it off I know not where."

Mjölnir flew into Thor's muscled hand. "You listen well, brother. I…"

A flash of red pushed Thor from the rock, sending them both hundreds of feet away.

"I'm listening," Loki said to the empty void.

* * *

Was Loki always this Shakespearen? Steve Rogers thought as he looked at the screening showing Loki in his glass prison. The screen went black, but Steve kept staring.

"He really grows on you, doesn't he?" Bruce asked, adjusting the position of his glasses.

Steve looked up and spoke to himself. "Loki's gonna drag this out. So, Thor, what's his play?"

"He has an army called the Chitauri," answered Thor. "They're not of Asgard or any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth. In return, I suspect, for the Tesseract. I imagine that before he gives them it, he will use the Tesseract's power to get his daughter."

"A daughter?" Natasha Romanoff questioned in shock. "The maniac who killed eighty people in two days has a daughter?"

"Have care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he's my brother. Adopted, but my brother nonetheless. And yes, Loki has a daughter. Eira, a beautiful five-year-old. His female clone. Asgard presumed Loki dead for two years, but he visited his daughter during that time. Loki is a selfish creature, but he would do anything for Eira. I assume that he thinks conquering your realm will benefit them both."

"What about her mother?" Steve inquired. "Did she know about Loki?"

Thor's body tensed. "Her mother died in childbirth. Loki truly loved her and her death motivated him to raise Eira alone."

"So he's a lunatic and single father," said Natasha. "Didn't expect that. But that does mean he can be emotionally exploited for answers."

Are all spies like her? Steve asked himself. It's not the way of the soldier, but it would probably help us. Loki is planning something. The briefing I was given anticipated a more powerful opponent. He wants to be here, but why?

...

Natasha walked into the room containing Loki's cells. He was walking back and forth, and she was unsure if it was the tension within the glass or mere boredom. When she moved closer, his pacing stopped. He shifted his stance to look at the Russian spy.

"There's not many people that can sneak up on me," Loki said with a smile.

"But you'd figured I'd come," spoke Natasha.

"After. After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. Appeal to my humanity. And I would cooperate."

"You are correct on one point. After everything you've done in the past few days, I thought you were beyond reason. Luckily for you, Thor mentioned a pretty interesting fact. You have a little girl back on Asgard whom you're raising by herself. Never thought of you as a single parent."

Loki's face softened when Natasha mentioned Eira. "I do. I have a daughter named Eira. Best part of my life. The scheme I planned, it was for both of us."

"I don't know if a five-year-old would appreciate her father conquering a planet against its will."

"It's better than the alternative. Ms. Romanoff, how does this sound? Raising a child as something they're not. Being told that they are an equal to everybody, but some people do not fulfill that statement. They look at the child as a monster and praise their sibling as perfection. Even though some attempt to make the best for the child, the lack of effort from others diminishes the illusion. They slowly see the cracks and plot to expose those who wrong them. But the ones who lied to them terminates the threat and blame the child, forgetting all the errors they formed along the way. My heartless parents wanted that for me, their lies could not convince me otherwise. My daughter does not deserve that. She is superior to humans in every way. It's only natural that she helps me rule over them."

"I don't know whether to be compassionate or disgusted by your speech. You clearly love your daughter, but this isn't the best way to show it."

"Would you not kill or conquer for the ones you love? What about Barton? You most certainly care about him. That is the reason you visited me, am I correct?"

"All I wanna know is what you've done to Agent Barton. I don't love him, if that's what you're thinking. Love is for children. I owe him a debt."

"Tell me." Natasha raised her eyebrow; Loki seemed interested in her story.

When she pulled up a chair and began speaking, he smiled inwardly. He couldn't wait for her to describe Clint as a savior. The man who saved her from a past of murders and assassinations. But would she ever escape? The blood continued to drip from past wounds. Drakov's daughter. São Paulo. The Hospital Fire. The countless lives she took away could never be erased. No cloth could clean up the red.

Manipulating her emotions would be a pleasure. Her mind fragile, she might discover his plan to exploit the beast within Bruce, but she could never stop it.

Barton and other S.H.I.E.L.D agents were probably on the helicopter, waiting to shoot the helicarrier as the so-called Avengers argued, unable to work together as a team, incapable of stopping his rule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the official script for "Marvel's The Avengers", when Loki feels someone land on top of the jet and hear thunder, the script says, and I quote, "What the fuck?" I don't know if this was a script note or if Loki was meant to say "what the fuck?" when that happened.


	6. Infinite Imprisonment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In 2012, we thought S.H.I.E.L.D. put a muzzle on Loki because he was so powerful. In 2019, we learned it was because he couldn't go five seconds without being a smartass. What an icon.

Feigning indifference was toilsome. The chains compact on his wrist, severely limiting the effects of his seidr. He attempted to make the situation better for himself, giving a crude, yet truthful, impression of Captain America. The Avengers did not strive to laugh at his jest. Thor was simply annoyed, grabbing a muzzle and putting it on his brother's lower face without hesitation.

He could not hide his irritation when the S.H.I.E.L.D agents approached them on the first floor of Stark Tower. The lackeys walked behind their secretary, a man he soon learned went by Pierce. They wanted Loki judged for his crimes in a jury of Midgardians. Thor stubbornly argued for his brother to return to Asgard, where their jury would deem the appropriate punishment. Even with Tony himself agreeing on Thor's behalf, Pierce and his goons did not budge. The only change in their confrontation was that Pierce's want quickly shifted into a need. The man overshadowed old, saggy skin with command; even with a god and a billionaire in front of him, he stood strong. A call from Fury confirmed that Asgard would be the place of justice. The wrinkles on Pierce's forehead became more pronounced.

The halls of the royal palace of Asgard did not change. An odd first observation for a god who committed terrorism a mere hour ago. Every entrance had guards, preventing anyone from entering or escaping. Loki sighed underneath the confinements of the muzzle. He wanted to see his daughter before his sentence. The amount of bodies he left behind, the blood and spirits he took away, surely death would be the minimum punishment in the eyes of the jury. A simple hug from Eira he considered a worthwhile goodbye.

Thor removed the muzzle and ordered the guards to take the prisoner to the All-Father for judgement. Loki stretched his mouth, testing his muscles after their painful imprisonment, which hindered his eyesight from noticing the spear in the corner transforming into a five-year-old girl.

"Daddy!" the voice echoed through the hall.

Loki turned his head, witnessing his daughter running toward him and giving his legs a hug. The guards readied their weapons, pointing them at Loki, waiting for him to arm himself.

Thor held his hand up to the guard, yet his eyes were aimed at the father and daughter duo. "Lower your weapons! Do not harm the princess!" he commanded, his hand firm on the handle of Mjolnir.

"Eira," said Loki kneeling down to face his daughter. "I missed you. I thought about you everyday. I was unaware that you were able to transform into objects. Your magic has advanced since I left."

"Yeah! Grandma has been teaching me and I've read the notes you left behind." Eira looked around the room, alarmed at the pre-violent positions of the guards. "Daddy, did I do something wrong?"

"Well, this probably was not the best time to see me. You should have realized the possible danger of your plan. I'm pleased to see you, but this could have gone much worse."

Eira stared at the chains on his wrists. "Daddy, are you in trouble."

"Don't worry yourself about me, Eira. Go to your uncle, he'll take you to your chambers. Before then, can I have a hug."

The princess did not hesitate, throwing herself onto her father, tightly wrapping her arms around his neck. Loki surrounded her tiny back with his arms, preventing her from feeling the rough texture of the chains.

"I love you, my little one," he whispered into her ear. "I love you more than anything."

"I love you too, Daddy," Eira said as she removed herself from her father's embrace.

Loki smiled and ruffled her hair. "It will be alright, I promise."

Eira nodded and swiftly walked to Thor. The god knelt and whispered something into her ear, probably informing her of the fear she caused. No scolding, the fright in Thor's eyes as he imagined the worst suppressed the anger. He grabbed her hand and guided her to her bedroom. As she walked to the exit, Eira turned her head to glance at her father. Loki smiled, ignoring the guards while they seized his chains, forcing him into the throne room to face Odin.

If he was punished by execution, he would be comforted by the embrace of his daughter.

* * *

" _Loki, why does everyone think you're angry?"_

_Runa held onto Loki's arm, following him into his chambers after their date in the palace gardens. Loki put an arm around her shoulder._

" _When did you think of that?"_

" _Well, an hour before we chatted, I overheard the guards talk about an argument you had with your brother. Plus, your shoulders are tense. I assume it's still bothering you."_

_Loki sighed. "My brother was being an arrogant buffon. We are investigating a possible problem in the realm of the Dark Elves. My suggestion of traveling to the realm and interrogating the citizens was misinterpreted. Maybe my mischievous title is not useful as I think."_

_Runa tilted her head. "Perhaps 'interrogate' is too brash a word. If you think your idea has good intentions, then phrase it as so. Although, the idea should be humane. Are these the difficulties you face as a prince?"_

" _As a royal, I have to make demanding decisions. I've learned as I have been more involved in managing the realms and politics. Even as my knowledge grows, the difficulties will continue. But I cannot succumb to my fears; if I do, I will never become king."_

" _You desire kinghood. I assume Thor wants the position as well. I don't know what advice I can give."_

" _Actually, hearing from an alternative perspective might be helpful."_

_Loki led her to his bed. Runa looked at her confused._

" _Are you sure? My thoughts will probably be familiar. No doubt you've heard it thousands of times."_

" _Runa, you have such a way with words. An intelligent lady such as yourself must have ideas. Even if I've heard them, I will listen and respect them."_

_The servant blushed. "Well, I think you need to demonstrate your mental strengths. You're clever, apt, and ingenious. I've heard stories of you in battle, your mischief is quite useful in those situations. Some see your perversity as a negative trait, but you are intuitive, I know you are capable of making astute more affirmative. Loki, you are the smartest and bravest man I have ever met. You have the will to one day be king."_

_Loki smiled as he embraced her. "My mischievous nature can be positive, you really think that?"_

" _It is a useful trait in certain situations. You are intelligent enough to figure out how."_

" _I love you so much."_

_They kissed one another. Runa wrapped her arms around his neck. Both of their bodies slowly fell onto the bed. Loki broke the kiss and stroked her curly hair._

" _Do you want to do this?"_

" _I think it would help me. I have not been feeling well these past few days. You know how to please me."_

" _Then let me serve you," he said before removing his clothes, assisting his lover in doing the same._

_The couple had sex, unaware that for the past month, Runa was carrying a little being in her belly._

* * *

A life sentence.

Rather than having a sword penetrate his back, watching his blood stream onto the floor until his body exhausted itself to death, Loki was to spend the remaining 4,000 years of his life in a cell in the Asgardian prisons, observing himself age as new prisoners entered and attempted to escape, failing the moment the spears of the guards stabbed their flesh, making their souls fade away.

His saving grace was family.

As he walked through the halls to the throne room, hearing the chains move against one another, his mother spoke to him behind a pillar. Her tone contained a mixture of love and disappointment.

She could never forget the little baby Odin returned with after his journey to Jotunheim; they were not related by blood, but Frigga saw him as a son. The passion her youngest child had for magic and learning during his boyhood, his determination to become king, the boy who grew into a man and fell in love, raising his daughter in honor of his late lover. The time his heart mainly consisted of good intentions, with the mischief serving as a form of rebellion.

His confusion and hatred went untreated, manifesting into the destruction in his birthplace and Midgard, both realms he vowed to protect when he became king. Frigga heard the stories of his conquest and brutality, but her past with Loki created a difficulty to understand the truth. Even though everyone had the same stories of his actions, she had trouble imagining him willingly hurting others with his magic, declaring himself better than all humans, ending the lives of hundreds without a drop of sympathy. Did Loki truly become a man who enjoyed watching the blood continue to spill, the body turning gray, the veins becoming more visible, more blue, and the eyes slowly lose hope of their life to continue?

Although his title as a royal was removed, Eira was still regarded as a princess. She should not be punished for her father's actions, although she was his main motivation. With regards to her young and developing mind, Odin decided visits between Loki and Eira would be beneficiary. To prevent hysterical tears, Eira was allowed to visit her father's cell five times a week, but Loki knew their interactions would decrease as she aged, the power of her grandfather and uncle eventually stopping their bond.

No other family member could see him.

He would spend the rest of his life alone, only his daughter by his side.

The day after his punishment was declared, Eira visited him, escorted by guards who watched every movement Loki made. She walked into the underground prison, weaponed guard following. Standing past the entrance, she tilted her head as she scanned the room, looking for Loki's new home. Her eyes widened when she met his gaze. She looked up at the guard, asking for the key to his cell. The guard made no expression as he nodded and moved to the cell, turning the key and closing it once Eira entered.

Loki did not have time to open his arms, as Eira ran into his cell, closing her arms around his body while quiet sobs escaped. He slowly embraced his daughter, lifting her into his arms and sitting down, placing her in his lap.

"You don't have to cry, Eira," he said, ironically unable to hide his tears."I'm right here, not allowed to go anywhere else. Everything is alright."

While her cries ended, she laid her head against his chest. "I saw the chains and the angry looks of the guards and I thought something bad would happen to you. I didn't want you to leave again, even if your plan did fail."

"When I left two years ago, it pained me to see you so sad. I don't want you to feel alone again. This is not the best circumstance for us to meet, but I am happy to hold you again."

Eira, head still on his chest, looked up at her father. "Daddy, why are you crying? You said I shouldn't cry."

"Joyous tears are rare, but they do occur. I have been away for too long. I'm sorry for putting you through this."

"I'm just happy to see you again."

"So I am," Loki stroked her hair. "It's our first physical meeting in two years. Let us not waste it with sadness. Do you have any tales you want to tell me? Anything you learned?"

Eira's face brightened. "I know how to read simple sentences, but I didn't bring any books with me, and I showed you all the magic I know during our secret meetings. You probably have a lot of stories! Can you tell me about Midgard? Uncle Thor told me about some of his friends. Did you make any friends?"

Loki hid his discomfort. Barton and Selvig were his friends, if mind control and manipulation equated to camaraderie. He threw Stark out a window, definitely a friendship defining moment. He made the Black Widow reflect on her brutal past, fought Captain America after almost killing an eldery German man in front of hundreds of bystanders, and forced Barton to attack and eliminate his fellow agents. And how could he forget destroying a populous city they all lived in, murdering innocence without a second thought. What an honorable man he demonstrated himself as in these past few days.

"I interacted with a few people," spoke Loki, telling the vague truth, which was much better than describing to his five-year-old about the details of his vicious invasion of Earth. "I can describe the realm to you. It's not as pretty as Asgard, but it has its sights along with a diverse population."

"That would be wonderful!" Eira responded. She calmly settled on his lap, her face no longer red and puffy, waiting for him to begin his story.

"When I arrived on Midgard, I was in a large city called New York City. There were tall buildings, vehicles not moved by horses, and despite the dark sky, the city was bursting with life. I did not immediately stumble upon the well-known excitement, as I emerged in an underground facility run by a government. On Earth, there are several governments, as the masses of land are divided into countries, states, and cities. I met with American government officials, who often plan secret missions for the benefit of the United States. Their government was not kind, requesting a fight with me to declare demonience. I escaped and later learned of another country named Germany, where the people look similar to Americans, but their culture differs immensely."

"Is Midgard that big?" said the princess, eyes wide with wonder and interest. "It's probably bigger than Asgard, and maybe all the other realms. How are the cultures so different in every country? You have to tell me about Germany! I want to know more!"

Loki smiled and patted her head. "I love your enthusiasm for learning. It reminds me of myself when I was a child. Sorry, I am losing the focus of my story. Anyway, I went to Germany and visited an opera house, as I was interested in the country's music ..."

* * *

_He had no materials to bring to Niflheim. It was an annual visit to observe any new changes and possible threats. All he needed were his eyes, yet Loki sat on his bed stool, his forehead against his clasped hands, eyes moving without purpose, waiting for nothing._

" _Loki, I thought you were supposed to be at the Bifrost. Is there something wrong? Do you need anything?"_

_The prince lifted his head, gazing at his pregnant lover at the entrance to the washroom. Her curly strawberry blonde hair contained in a bun, though several strands managed to escape, laying near her ears and framing her diamond face. Light green eyes looked at him with concern._

" _I'm fine, Runa," he responded. "Just preparing for the mission."_

_Runa moved from the washroom and sat next to her lover. "I thought you were good at lying. Surely preparing means searching for the necessary materials, not sitting down and contemplating life. What concerns you?"_

_Loki sighed and sat slightly straighter, looking down at his hands. He was unsure of how to answer her question. Runa frowned, moving her head to lay on Loki's shoulder._

" _You're worried about me and the baby."_

_He turned to look into her eyes, filled with curiosity and perturbation. She knew he had reasons for his worrisome behavior. Just a week ago, Runa, four months pregnant, fainted during a celebration. Ordered by the healers to stay in bed for most of the day and move when imperative. Her health slowly improved, her exhaustion hindered her mobility._

_Loki was by her side the entire week: helping her stand up, preparing herbal teas, rubbing her back every morning as she threw up. It pained him to see the woman he loved more than anything venture through the irritation of carrying his child. The selfish Loki felt guilty; he caused her difficult pregnancy, but he was powerless. Runa did the work while he observed._

_Despite her weakened state, Runa was still beautiful. The pregnancy did not affect her smooth face and kind personality. She continued to look gorgeous in every dress she wore. Her current outfit, a dark purple while light amethyst and silver embellish. The loose silk chiffon silk did not engulf her figure, but a hint of her curved stomach was highlighted._

" _I have never gone on a mission after such distress. It's not only me I have to care for, I have you and our daughter. You both are safe here, but I cannot suppress my worry. If anything happens, I don't know what I will do."_

" _Loki, nothing drastic will occur. Even if my health declines, I know your mothers and the healers will be by my side. You probably won't miss much. The baby will kick all night and I will wake up every hour to go to the washroom. She is active during the strangest times."_

_Loki smiled and kissed her forehead. "I will be back in a day and a half. Keep our daughter under control until then."_

_Runa giggled. "I will. Use this as a chance to impress your father. It might be easier, since Sif will be with you. You get a break from your boisterous brother."_

" _You have such a way with motivation," said Loki before he stood up. He adjusted his shirt and collar. He looked at Runa and smiled. "Thank you."_

" _You're welcome," she responded. "You can return the favor by telling me if the rumors about Niflheim are true. Is there a being trapped underneath its surface trying to escape?"_

_Loki huffed a light laugh. "If there was, we would have discovered it during our three thousand years of searching." He waved and left the room._

_In their ten months together, Runa gave Loki the passion to demonstrate his worthiness to his father through virtue, the perfect trait for a king. In return, Loki gave Runa confidence, putting a smile on her face during the worst moments, even when he himself was nervous._

* * *

Most royal Asgardians displayed an early interest in battle and politics. At only five and a half, Eira added to her passions. The studying and practice of fighting techniques and sorcery had a new companion; the examination of the Nine Realms.

Startled by her father's stories of Midgard, she requested books describing more of Earth, which later broadened into Svartalfheim, Vanaheim, and according to her most recent request, Jotunheim.

Upon speaking to the servants, Frigga learned of her granddaughter's literature request. She originally asked the servants to browse the shelves of the library to entertain Loki during his lifelong imprisonment. While she respected the decision of her husband, the All-Mother had a mischievous streak of her own.

Frigga knocked on the door to Eira's room, holding the book containing the history of Jotunheim. She heard the quiet, swift footsteps inside the chambers. The princess pushed open the door, looking left and right for a person before lifting her head up, smiling when she saw her grandmother.

"Hello, grandma! Do you need anything?"

"I have to talk with you. Do you mind if I come in?"

Eira nodded her head as she led her grandmother into her room. Frigga saw the various school books scattered on her bed, an open notebook and lead quill in the center.

"Studying so early in the morning? Quite a serious learner, I see."

Smirking, Eira sat on her bed, moving her materials to make room for Frigga to sit. "Miss Saga was upset with me for focusing on other books instead of the ones for tutoring. I like the books she gives me, but I want to read more."

"You best not upset Lady Saga," calmly said Frigga. "She is very understanding of your advanced intelligence and is patient with you while teaching you how to act like a lady. I realize you enjoy activities associated with boys, but you are a princess. You have an image to uphold."

Eira sighed. "Miss Saga is very nice and I sometimes feel bad for annoying her. She's a good teacher, but the lady lessons are so boring. I like the excitement of battle and magic. I wish I could wear more pants, most of my dresses don't match me as a person."

"It will become easier over time. Now, I have the book about Jotunheim you requested."

The face of the princess brightened. "Really? But why did you bring it to me and not the servants?"

Frigga took a deep breath. "Because I have something to tell you. About yourself."

…

Loki's face expressed indifference, hiding the eagerness in his mind. In a few moments, Eira would run into his cell. No visit occurred yesterday, as it was not scheduled for his daughter's week. Though only a day had passed, Loki knew Eira would describe every detail of her day. She was always open with him, more resistant with telling her tales to other members of her family.

No quick footsteps echoed through the prison today. Complete silence filled the open, free space between the cells. Loki's cell suddenly opened, Eira slowly walking in before the transparent opening closed once again. In a surprising burst of energy, Eira ran to her father and settled in front of where he sat. She forced her eyes to not meet his gaze. Loki worriedly brushed a strand of raven hair away from her face; no response came from the movement.

"Eira," Loki questioned, taking the hair strand and placing it behind her small ear. "Is something the matter?"

His daughter stayed still for a few moments. Loki was about to ask another question, attempting to solve her silence, but her voice freed itself.

"Why did nobody tell me that I'm also a princess of Jotunheim?"

Loki froze. Who told her the truth? Who dared tell her about her origin as a half-breed? Who told her the truth at an appropriate age? Why did they not wait until she was his age? Why did they make the correct decision with her?

"You are but … but," Loki struggled to find words. "How do you know? Did someone tell you?"

Eira shifted awkwardly. "For the past few weeks, I've been reading books about the various realms. Yesterday, I asked the librarians to find me a book about Jotunheim that was at my reading level. Instead of a servant, grandma gave the book to me and told me."

Loki lifted her into his lap, stroking her emotionless face. "Do you have any questions for me?"

Tears formed in her eyes. "Am I a monster?"

"Eira, no. Of course not. Why would you think you're a monster?"

The tears fell. "All the stories describe the Frost Giants as monsters, scary beings who like to hurt people. I don't want to be that, Daddy. I want to help people, not cause them pain!"

Loki sniffed, unable to hide his emotions. "Those stories are filled with prejudices, created to form an image of the Jotnar to cause hate. I don't know why our family felt comfortable telling us these tales, but they have learned. We can now form our own opinions."

Eira cried into his shirt. "So Uncle Thor, grandma, grandpa, are they not our family?"

He sighed inwardly. Due to recent events, he did not consider Thor and Odin as family. They had regretted him, disapproving of his real self. Frigga continued to give him motherly love, just as she always did.

But Eira did not have his feelings, his centuries of lies. They were her family.

"Even though we are not related to them by blood, they care for us, gave us a home, welcomed us despite our differences. They love you, Eira. They are your family."

The sobs stopped, but the tears did not. "I still don't know how to feel about being a half-breed."

"Eira, you should feel special. In the vast population of the universe, you are the only half-Asgardian, half-Jotun in history. You are the definition of unique. No else is like you. No one can compare to you."

Her cheeks started to dry. "Did Mummy know that you were a Frost Giant?"

"No," he disguised his bitterness. Those lies caused the death of his lover. "She never knew, and neither did I until two years ago. I'm glad they told you now. I did not have the best reaction to the news, I was much older, not wanting to discuss my feelings with others. I can help you through this. You must have a plethora of thoughts. I can guide you."

No response came from Eira. She closed her eyes slightly, tired from her tears. Loki kissed her forehead.

"Even though your mother never knew, she still would have loved you. She loved you before you were born, when she carried you in her stomach."

Eira's position on his chest did not change. "Can you tell me a story about Mummy?"

Loki smiled. "Anything for you, little one. One evening, your mother knocked on my door, her figure demonstrating nervousness. I asked her if anything was wrong, and then she smiled. She told me that she was pregnant with you…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too tired to write a meme. It is midnight and I've been awake for sixteen hours. 
> 
> fuck me


	7. God of Mischief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Thor: The Dark World" is not my least favorite MCU movie - I fucking hate "Iron Man 3" - but it has its issues, mainly the writing of Jane. Depicted as a strong, independent woman in the first movie, she is reduced to a stereotypical damsel in distress. 
> 
> I only rewatch for the Loki scenes, as all of them are golden. Someone give Tom Hiddleston his Oscar.
> 
> Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

_Thor first witnessed the methods and agents of SHIELD in 2010. He met Phil Coulson, a stoic man who knew the risks of the job, but somehow displayed consideration. After his interaction with the son of Coul, he inferred the reminder of the government agency was worthy of his trust._

_Arriving two years later, a mission to locate his once-dead brother let Thor explore the base of SHIELD. Their leader, Nick Fury, more stoic than Coulson. His face reflected his many physical and emotional battles. Decades of experience at SHIELD gave him the proper authority to discover and analyze the irregularities of Earth. The destruction of a small town in New Mexico broadened Fury's plans. Earth was a treat to itself, but it had possible enemies beyond his own planetary system. The Tesseract contained the answer to dominate these traits, which Fury planned to manipulate._

_Between his visits to Midgard, the Asgardian Royal Family observed the violence within the realms and acted accordingly. Destroying the Bifrost prevented Loki from succeeding, but it weakened the security of all the realms. As further lands learned of these unprotected planets, they planned invasions. The violence was quelled, but the threat lingered. If the other realms experienced coups, then what was the safety of Asgard itself?_

_Fear spread within the minds of the castle. Although the palace was well-protected, a sudden attack was not impossible. The likely targets had immense power, able to fend off threats by defending themselves. Yet despite her advanced knowledge of sorcery and combat, Eira could not effectively defend herself._

_What would happen if an attack laid damage onto the princess?_

_After arriving at the Helicarrier, Thor requested a private meeting with Fury. The director assumed that Thor wanted to discuss his possible role in the Avengers. While the god was interested and had questions about the team, he had an invocation._

" _Earlier, I mentioned my niece, Loki's daughter," began Thor._

_Fury raised his eyebrow, confused as to what Thor would be further talking about. "I remember, but what does she have to do with our current situation?"_

" _This is about the future. As of now, Asgard is the most protected of the realm, but danger lurks. Loki's daughter, Eira, is only five. My family is concerned with her safety back home. I was wondering if your agency could let her live in Midgard?"_

" _You want us to watch over a little girl? No offense Thor, but this is a spy and military agency, not a babysitting service."_

" _I understand that, but Eira has already shown signs of great power. The amount of soldiers at your disposal could easily offer her protection. I will visit her and have someone teach her to control her powers. It is not certain that she will need to come to Midgard, but my family will perhaps be calmer if we have a plan of action."_

_Fury did not look at Thor. His gaze to a giant window, he stared at the blue sky. "I have a lot on my mind right now, many people and situations to manage. I will think about it, and I'll let you know my decision once we get our hands on the Tesseract."_

_Thor nodded. "That will be enough for now."_

_The god exited the room. As the door closed itself behind him, Thor failed to notice Captain America standing by the wall in the hallway, remembering every word of the conversation he overheard._

…

_Securing the perimeter within Stark Tower, Steve saw the crumbling buildings and Chitari remains of Manhattan. The destruction of World War II was a casualty of the past, he was told in the past year after his lengthy nap. He wanted to separate himself with war as he adjusted to 21st century life and culture. Perhaps the world had not progressed as much as he thought._

" _Rogers? Rogers, are you there?"_

_Steve pressed a finger against his ear piece, recognizing the voice of Fury._

" _Hello, sir. I was wondering when you would call."_

" _Sorry about that; the stupid motherfuckers on the council thought nuking a populas city was a good idea. Glad to see that the team managed themselves. You're a better leader than I thought, Captain. This would have been harder without you."_

" _Thanks, sir. I'm securing Stark Tower. Making sure Loki doesn't have another plan of attack. I'm almost done, and everything appears fine."_

" _That's a relief. Contact me when you're done and meet the team at the main floor of the tower."_

" _Sir, before you leave, I think you should provide protection to Loki's daughter."_

_Silence. "You sneaky shit, you overheard that."_

_Steve smiled. "Accidentally. I realize we don't know much about her, but if she needs protection, I can provide it. She is a princess; better to secure our alliance with Asgard."_

" _I never mentioned that you needed to care for her."_

" _I know, but a group of soldiers constantly surrounding her might feel a bit awkward."_

_Fury laughed. "Well, alright then."_

…

_Five hours after the chaos, four hours after Thor and Loki returned to their homeland, Fury felt like shit. He finally assembled the team he spent twenty years finding members for and watched them successfully defeat a vast alien army, but the harsh words of the council remained in his mind._

_He sat in his office, staring at the paperwork on his desk, hoping that if he waited long enough, then the piles of reports would disappear._

_The knock on his door was a pleasant distraction. Without lifting his gaze, he commanded for the person behind the door to come in._

_The Black Widow walked in, bandages on her face, the bruises uncovered. Fury looked up._

" _Natasha, I thought that you would have been home by now."_

" _As much as I would like that, you look like you need some help. Although it is illegal, I have a talent at forging signatures."_

_Fury nodded and smiled, grabbing a pen and lifting it to Natasha. "Help would be nice."_

_Natasha removed the pen from his grasps, grabbing a chair and sitting down. Fury sighed, reaching for a pen of his own, finally starting his work._

" _There's one thing I can't stop thinking about."_

" _Is it that Bruce and Tony are best friends after knowing one another for a few hours?"_

" _No, but that is rather interesting. I made an agreement with Thor earlier."_

" _Do I have the qualification to know about this?"_

" _You do, as someone I can trust. Thor wanted SHIELD to provide shelter for his niece in case Asgard is in danger."_

" _Did you agree?"_

" _I did, but I have no idea about how to arrange her living situation if she ever comes here."_

_Forgetting her spy exterior, Natasha's eyes widened and her lip slightly trembled, a rare glimpse of emotion._

" _I can take care of her," she said._

* * *

His first of year imprisonment was better than Loki initially thought. He chatted with his mother every few weeks, she ordered the servants to give the cell furniture and books. A mix of literature and nonfiction, the books were entertaining and passed the time; Frigga knew her youngest son's tastes. Eira lightened the mood during her visits. Despite her pessimistic personality, the princess arrived cheerful, excited to see her father and describe recent events. Sometimes Loki told her tales and read the pages of his own books to her. He relished the time they spent together, glad that the rest of his life would not be completely spent noticing the gazes of guards and other prisoners.

Frigga sat in her chambers, letting her magic take over her body as she formed an apparition of herself. Her false body traveled to Loki's cell. As green streaks formed her figure and settled into their natural colors. Loki did not detect the new presence, his focus on the words of a book.

"Enjoying the books I sent?"

Loki looked up from his book, grabbing the spine and shutting its contents. "I am, but I fail to believe that is the reason for your sudden visit."

The All-Mother's stance stiffened. Loki stood up, moving away from his bed to approach his mother.

"Eira should be in your cell in a few hours. Before then, there is some information you should know, or at least I think is important for you."

"Did something happen to Eira?" asked a panicked Loki. His relaxed expression morphed into fear, the slightest thought of danger harming his little girl irked his nerves.

"Eira is fine, but me, the All-Father, and Thor have been discussing the future. I'm sure you are aware of the constant battles throughout the realms. No violence has occurred in Asgard, but we cannot eliminate an ensuing disturbance. To protect Eira, Thor thought it might be best to send her Midgard, where members of his human team would defend her."

"Thor wants to send my daughter into a realm foreign to her, without asking for my constant." Loki gripped the bars of the bed, a splinter entering his finger, but he did not budge. The thought of loosy Midgardians, his enemies, watching his daughter as he remained in his cell boiled his blood.

"He would need your constant if you were not a prisoner. But I do agree with you. Prisoner or not, Eira is still your daughter. You should be aware of the plan and understand."

"How can I trust them? The grudge they hold against me, how do I know if they will direct it toward Eira?"

"I was skeptical too, but Heimdall has made some interesting observations. Apparently, two members of Thor's team expressed immediate and genuine interest in sheltering her, a better situation then what I initially considered."

No answer came from Loki. His dark jade eyes darted to the side, he reflected his mother's words. The Avengers probably had nothing but hate for him. He destroyed a SHIELD base, killed more in Germany, sent chaos to a populous city. After his defeat, they offered no wit to his jokes, thoughtless to his actions, merely seeing him as a delivery.

Frigga sighed. "I'll leave you alone. Think this over, if not for me, then for Eira."

Behind his back, her figure turned transparent, specks of her illusion fading into the air.

If these Avengers were as virtuous as they boasted, then they would see Eira as an individual, ignoring the many, many faults and irredeemable actions of her father. Perhaps their care was truthful.

…

"I thought no one but me was supposed to visit you."

Eira, who entered his chamber mere minutes ago, bounced on her father's bed. Loki was arranging his various tales on a bookshelf, joining his daughter once everything was organized to his liking.

"Your grandmother is very sentimental," he said. "We were very close when I was younger and her maternal instinct is strong. I myself enjoy her visits, I cannot lie. The furniture she gifted me is quite comforting."

The cell was a stark contrast to his former royal lifestyle. His chamber once heavily embellished, clothes of the finest quality, cravings made by the finest craftsmen were replaced with nothing. In the beginning of his sentence, Loki slept and sat on a plain floor. His days spent staring at the orange-tinted, transparent walls, observing the new prisoners and transports, watching inmates earn their freedom while he remained in chains, his royal blood removed from his veins.

Frigga broke the terms of her son's imprisonment. Seeing him via apparition, she had simple conversations with him whenever she could. Servants conversed with the guards, who then moved various furniture and books into his cell. Fellow inmates glared in jealousy at his small luxuries. Loki remained disappointed; the quality of the craftsmanship far inferior to those of his princely years. Grateful for the continuing affection of his mother, but ego was not deterred. He supposed it was better than nothing; being ripped of his title and possessions should have humbled him.

"It's very nice," said Eira, discontinuing her bouncing once her father settled next to her. "This will make my visits easier. The floor wasn't that comfortable. I should be happy to see you, but still."

"You are a princess. It makes sense that you have become accustomed to various luxuries."

"Do you miss our room?" Eira looked up at her father, who smiled and lifted her into his lap.

"At times, but I don't care about it. These visits from you make everything better. If you were not here, then life would be much harder. Thank you, Eira."

Eira leaned her head against Loki's chest. One arm wrapped around her back, while his hand stroked her raven locks.

"I like these visits, too, Daddy, but I feel bad. These may have to end. Did grandma tell you about sending me to Midgard?"

Loki glanced down. "Did they tell you?"

"No, I overheard grandma and Thor talking about it one day." Her smile widened with each word, the mischievous excitements edging in ever so slightly, the tone both observant and vexatious.

 _Never in my life have I been proud and disappointed in tandem,_ Loki thought. _I should not be surprised, she is my daughter. Oh gods, what would Runa think?_

"Eira," he began to scold. "You should not make that a habit of yours. Could be dangerous."

The princess sighed. "I know, Daddy. I was just curious, but they planned to tell me soon. I wanted to know what you think. I was mad at first, but then I remembered the other stuff I overheard. It's pretty dangerous out there. I can protect myself, but I should listen to my family. Midgard is also the realm I'm most interested in. So much culture!"

_Holy shit! It's even worse than I thought! Six years old and somehow so much like me. Why am I surprised? I am a single father; should have expected her to learn from me._

"Like you, I was angry. You are the best part of my life, being away from you for a single movement has caused me pain. But I do care about your safety. If Midgard is the safest place for you, then I can adapt, though I'm sure I can find ways to visit you. A simple prison cell cannot stop me."

Eira shrugged. "Well, if you think it's a good idea, then maybe it will be easier."

"Just do one thing for me." His daughter looked up with a serious expression. "Don't learn too much from those humans. Remember who you are."

"That I'm your daughter? Pretty easy to remember that. I look just like you!"

"So you taught yourself the art of the quip? Interesting, but you forgot one detail." Loki lightly grabbed a strand of her hair. "These curls, have you ever seen them on me."

Eira frowned. "Only I have the right to complain about my hair; I have to live with it every day. No one can handle it but you. I don't know how you handle brushing and braiding it."

"I can teach you, but only if you are able."

A silly moment, but in Loki's imprisonment, it offered a nice glimpse of tranquility.

* * *

Eira noticed the pink, puffy marks on the border of her grandmother's eyes. A brave decision to have lunch in the dining hall after a burst of raw emotion, but the room was not crowded like most days. Granddaughter and grandmother sat alone at the edge of the table, no words arising from their mouths. The princess could not think past Frigga's despair. The other thought was that of her father, but Eira had a slight suspicion that Loki was the cause.

She never interrupted the visits between Eira and Loki. The only biological family they had were each other, so their bond had the utmost importance, and a disruption could possibly reverse their love.

In the past year, when Eira walked by her grandparent's chamber, hoping to learn something new about her father or the current state of the Nine Realms, she saw Frigga striding and staring at nothing, talking to no one but referring to the nonexistent figure as her son. But Eira resided in the learning hall for the morning, amazing her teacher with her intelligence while annoying her with the occasional snarky comment.

A single word could not leave Eira's mouth. The moment she prepared herself to speak, a servant approached the All-Mother and whispered a message in her ear. The princess wanted to know, but in fear of being scolded she looked away, yet her ears remained perked.

"Excuse me, Eira," spoke Frigga as she stood up. "I have matters that need attention."

Eira nodded, stabbing the last piece of pork with her fork as she watched her grandmother leave the dining hall. Biting on the meat, Eira looked around the room, curious as to the emptiness of the room.

 _First uncle doesn't appear for lunch, then grandma has to leave,_ thought Eira. _What is happening? And why won't anybody tell me? Who cares if I'm only six! I have a right to know._

Despite her royal status, no guard observed Eira leaving the dining hall unattended.

She strolled through the halls, hands behind her back, glancing at every entrance. Nothing sparked her interest, but determination motivated her. The winds from outside attracted her attention. The opening of the patio highlighted by the sunlight, Thor and an unknown figure stood beyond the archway.

Raising her eyebrow in curiosity, Eira tottered to the patio, leaning against the wall to listen.

"I believe you were in between worlds," Thor's bruly voice spoke. "The Nine Realms travel within Yggdrasil, orbiting Midgard in much the way your planet orbits the sun. Every five thousand years the worlds align perfectly, we call this the Convergence. During this time the borders between worlds become blurred. It's possible you found one of these points. We are lucky that it remained open. Once the worlds pass out of alignment, the connection is lost."

_The Convergence? No one told me it would happen this year. Why is he explaining it like this? Is this person Asgardian?_

Eira almost gasped when she saw Thor kiss the figure. _It's that lady Thor won't stop talking about! I think her name is Jane. Why is she here?_

"I liked the way you explained that," said Jane after ending the kiss. "What's gonna happen to me?"

The perfect chance to interrupt. Eira moved behind her uncle and his lover - maybe former lover was the better phrase - and spoke.

"You shouldn't worry. My uncle loves you too much to let anything happen to you."

Both turned around in confusion. Jane tilted her head while Thor squinted.

"Eira, what are you doing here?"

"Wait," Jane voiced her stupefaction. "She called you uncle. How is that possible?"

"She is Loki's daughter."

"Are you serious? He has a daughter?"

Eira frowned and stepped back. "Don't judge me because of my dad."

Jane shook her head. "I'm sorry. I should not have said that. Let me introduce myself: I am Jane Foster."

The princess was still unsure. "My name is Eira."

"That's a pretty name."

"You and Eira are somewhat similar," Thor broke his silence. "Even though she is almost seven, Eira is smart for her age and likes to independently, something you would appreciate."

Jane smiled in her direction. "I do. You will be a fine young lady when you grow up."

Though her uncertainty remained, Eira's cheeks went red.

"Eira, someone has given you a compliment, it is only appropriate that you give your thanks."

Frigga walked onto the balcony, eying her granddaughter while guards stood behind her. Eira straightened her stance, looking up at Jane as she gripped the folds of her teal jumpsuit.

"Thank you, Lady Jane."

Thor put his hand on her shoulder. "Jane Foster, please meet Frigga, the Queen of Asgard, my mother."

Jane held out her hand, which Frigga was planning to grip, but the ground and walls shook. A loud, high-pitched sound rang through the palace.

"The prisons," Frigga stated.

"Loki," Thor whispered, making Eira look at him in wonder.

The All-Mother kneeled and grabbed Eira's hand. "Go to your chambers, Eira. The guards will protect you. Thor, go to the prisons. I will look after Jane."

Eira was quickly escorted to her room before she could say goodbye to her family. Before the doors shut, she saw her grandmother leading Jane to safety.

The last time Eira ever saw Frigga.

* * *

The prisoners decided to start a riot from within the walls of their cells. Normally, the thrill of escape would excite Loki, but he took no part. Their plan appeared thoughtless, a spur of the moment decision with no positive consequences. He read a book as chaos ensued outside his walls, hearing the defeat of the prisoners as swords entered their bodies. Later discovering that Malekith the Accursed was the mastermind of the operation created no interest. Confused as to why Fandral was telling him about the resurrected Dark Elf, he feigned indifference but struggled to maintain his expression to the news about the few casualties, including Frigga.

Loki sat alone in the prison, the former jailed facing consequences while the guards healed their wounds. His eyes were focused on no particular object, his vision blurred, ignoring the destroyed furniture, their wooden remains sharply carved, and the piece of a bed-frame stabbed in his foot.

The patter of feet echoed through the room. He hated to seem weak to those inferior to him, but his current emotions overshadowed his lifelong traits. Creating the illusion of a clean cell was reasonable, but someone would eventually discover. Hiding never lasted forever. The barrier of his cell glitched, the malfunction traveling to Loki's ears, his vision still astrayed.

"Daddy?"

His stance stiffened. One panel of the barrier disappeared, Eira entering the room with tears in her eyes. She looked at her feet, observing the state of despair made by her father.

Loki stood up, lifting her into his embrace, not afraid of the tries dripping onto his cheeks.

"Oh, Eira," he sobbed. "I was so worried. I feared for your safety. How glad I am to see you unharmed. If you had been hurt, I don't know what I would do."

Eira cried against his shoulder. "Grandma's gone away. I thought something had happened to you. I know I broke the rules and that I'm here without the guards, but I wanted to see you."

"If you explain the truth to them, then they are sure to forgive you."

"I'm scared. I think Thor and Grandpa might send me to Midgard, but I don't want to go away from you."

"Let's not worry about that right now."

To calm himself and his daughter, Loki wanted to pace around his cell but he forgot about the splinter at the bottom of his foot. With one step he winced, his nerves shocked by the pain. Eira lifted her head from his shoulder.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" she asked innocently. Her gaze transitioned to the source of his pain. "What happened to your foot? I think I can fix it. I don't know much about healing magic, but I … I can …"

"Eira," interrupted Loki, sitting down at the corner. "Do not concern yourself with my problems. I can heal myself."

The princess continued her unsure expression. Loki stroked her chin as he adjusted her position on his lap. "I saw a bit of your mother in you. She always requested to quell my wounds. Even when she was carrying you in her belly, she would not rest until she knew I was alright."

"Really? I act like Mummy sometimes?"

Loki nodded. "I see so much of her in you. Her selfless nature is reflected in your actions. I loved that about her."

Eira leaned her head against his chest, protected by a thin shirt; the tips of his wavy strands of hair contacted her shoulders. "Is Grandma with Mummy in Valhalla?"

"Yes." The former prince held his tears back. "They will be at peace. I wish I could have said a proper goodbye."

"You were close with Grandma, right? That's why she visited you."

Loki hummed. "When I was your age, I struggled to interact with my family, probably because I was adopted. My mother taught me magic, and I began to trust her more and more."

"Why do you call her your mother but don't call Thor your brother?"

He sighed and twitched his head. "I did some things that he did not agree with. Our relationship has had its ups and downs, as all siblings do. But in recent years, our bond has had its complications. Do not let that ruin your relationship with him. He cares for you, remember that."

Relaxed breaths hit his chest. He looked down, observing a toddler struggling to stay awake. Her eyelids shut for long periods, the grip on his shirt gradually weakened. She shook her head against his chest, battling the fatigue.

"It's rather late Eira," he whispered. "You should be asleep. If you fall asleep in my arms, I can get a guard to carry you to your chambers."

Eira lost the fight against sleep before Loki could finish his statement. He smiled as he glanced at her relaxed body.

Loud, bruly footsteps echoed. Twitching his eyebrow in annoyance, Loki created an illusion opposite to the reality of the destruction in his cell.

After eighteen months, Thor finally decided to visit him.

Sentimental or political? Loki would discover soon.

Thor entered the prison, his grasp tight on Mjolnir, brown cloak covering his armor. Adjusting his well-kept clothes, he stared mockingly at his brother.

"Thor, after all this time and now you come to visit me," Loki gritted. "Why? Have you come to gloat? To mock?"

"Loki, enough," Thor intergetted "No more illusions" Despite being apart for almost two years, Thor had grown more perspective.

No longer empty, the floor contained broken pieces of furniture, one which decided to attack Loki's foot. Eira laid asleep in her arms, undisturbed by her father's anger.

"I thought everyone would be more alert after today. So tell me, how was my daughter able to reach the prisons without struggle?"

"I did not come here to lay defenseless at your harsh words. I offer you the chance of a far richer sacrament."

Interesting. "Go on," spoke Loki unemotionally.

"I know you seek vengeance as much as I do. You help me escape Asgard and I will grant it to you, vengeance. And afterward, this cell."

Loki chuckled. "You must be truly desperate to come to me for help. What makes you think you can trust me?"

"I don't. Mother did. You should know that when we fought each other in the past, I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there somewhere. That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me and I will kill you."

Silence. Then, the hint of a smile.

"When do we start?"

…

The last time Loki stepped foot in his chambers was 2010. He turned to his daughter, instructing her to stay until he returned. She stayed alone, not expecting her father to fall purposely from the Bifrost. The room itself hardly succumbed to time. The main difference was the lack of presence of Eira's small bed. For three years, he slept on his bed, comforted by his scent lingering on his sheets. Big for her small frame, but it calmed her, so no one stood against it. His closet untouched; his green and gold armor returned to their confinements. It was exhilarating, switching from the cheap clothes to the luxury of royalty.

He walked out of the washroom, patting his hair to keep it down. His gaze fell on Eira, asleep on the giant bed. Such a deep sleeper, ever since she passed infancy.

Moving to her form, Loki poked her arm and called her name, hoping to speak with her before leaving for Svartalfheim. The princess grunted, leaning her head further into the pillow. Loki's voice registered to her ears, making her sit up.

"Daddy! You're back! Why are you here? Why are your clothes different?"

"I'm helping your Uncle. He requested my aid for a mission."

Her smile extended in hope. "Will you be free after this?"

Loki shook his head. "No, my little one. I'm afraid I will have to return to my cell."

Lips trembling, she gripped Hati, closing her eyes in frustration. His smile did not disappear, however.

"Eira, do not worry. I have a plan. For now, get some rest. Everything will be alright."

"I don't want you to leave me."

"I would never leave you. You are my world, a miracle that has given me the best motivation."

Her nose sniffled. "You promise?"

Loki smiled and pulled her into a hug. "I promise."

…

Based on his observations via Heimdall from three years ago, Loki considered Jane Foster a strong woman. Though human, she had a unique mentality and intelligence. As she lay unconscious on the ship, she was no more than a damsel. Quite a disappointment. Sure, she contained the compounds of an Infinity Stone, he expected her to do more than sleep.

"She's holding up alright, for now," commented Loki, deciding to hide his dismay.

"She's strong in ways you'd never even know," Thor responded, his eyes focus on the terrain of the land of the Dark Elves.

"Say goodbye."

"Not this day."

"This day, the next, a hundred years, it's nothing. It's a heartbeat. You'll never be ready. The only woman whose love you've prized will be snatched from you."

Thor turned to his younger brother. "And will that satisfy you?"

"Tis not satisfaction I desire, but rather a warning."

"Not jesting with me, Loki!"

"No. Not a jest, but a warning from experience. I prepared to stay with Runa for the rest of my life. To love her. Raise Eira with her. That was thrown away the moment _your_ father decided to hide the truth of my blood, of my daughter's blood. They thought it was better to maintain a secret than to protect the life of my fiance."

"Fiance? You and Runa were never engaged."

"I proposed to her in secret when she was six months pregnant. I even gave her a ring. Our relationship was rushed, I'll admit that. We conceived a child within four months of dating, but I loved her. I wanted to demonstrate how much she meant to me. And now, she's gone. Runa will never see her daughter grow up. Your family made me be both parents instead giving Eira both a mother and a father."

Tears spilled, but Thor failed to notice.

"They are your family too!"

"Only Mother understood how I felt."

"You think you alone were loved of mother? You had her tricks, but I had her trust!"

"Trust. Was that her last expression? Trust? When you let her die!"

"What help were you in your cell?"

"Who put me there? Who put me there?!"

"You know damn well! You know damn well who!"

Thor raised his fist to punch Loki but stopped himself, sighing. "She wouldn't want us to fight."

Loki shrugged. "Well, she wouldn't exactly be shocked."

"I wish I could trust you."

"Trust my rage."

…

Thor could trust Loki's rage to remove the Ether from Jane, but not in the safety of their father.

Before Thor returned to Asgard, Loki killed the guard sent to Svartalfheim. He stabbed him and watched him bleed, making sure he was dead. Time was valuable afterward, no second could be wasted. Not bothering to clean the blood from his armor, he took the portal and faced Odin disguised as the living version of the guard. The All-Father expression of surprise was short, but Loki planned to remember it as he slept.

The time he spent in Svartalfheim was longer than he thought. Before sitting on the throne with tranquility, he wanted to see the smile on his daughter's face when she saw him alive and well.

But he was too late.

Eira was sent to Midgard.


	8. Goodbye Asgard, Hello Midgard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, I am alive.
> 
> I remember writing the first chapter for this series and thinking: "It will be a long time until I write the Avengers into this story." Holy shit time has no bounds.
> 
> There will be a slight AU from "Thor: The Dark World", but I found it necessary for developing the story.

Steve first learned about the girl a year and a half ago. According to Thor, her intelligence was advanced, her curiosity constantly active, and a deep love for her father. He requested to watch her if she ever needed protection on Earth, and apparently Natasha did as well. Awaking to his Washington D.C. apartment with a ring of his phone, he received an order to come to the SHIELD base. Now he sat in a room with Natasha, eyeing the document she handed him.

_**Name:** _ _Eira Sylene Lokisdóttir_

_**Date of Birth:** _ _December 16th, 2006_

_**Gender:** _ _Female_

_**Height:** _ _123.1 cm (48.46 in)_

_**Eyes:** _ _Green_

_**Hair:** _ _Black_

_**Parents:** _ _Loki Laufeyson (father; formally Odinson) / Runa (mother; last name unknown)_

_**Citizenship:** _ _Asgardian and Jötunn half-breed_

_**Unusual Features:** _ _Black, feather-shaped birthmark on her upper-right back; Ambidextrous_

Removing his thumb from the edge of the paper, he looked at a picture of Eira. Thor was right: she was Loki's female clone. The raven hair, jade irises, and sharp nose were identical to his. Even the smile also served as a reminder of the conqueror. But the facial-shape and curls were unfamiliar.

Steve decided to break the silence. "Did Thor mention anything about her personality?"

The Russian looked up from the document. "Well, like her father, she has a mischievous streak, but she is very selfless; very interested in royal politics. She likes to read and practice her magic. A tough cookie, according to Thor. Doesn't cry or whine whenever she is injured, though she does get distressed in social situations. She has difficulty talking to new people. Loki is her favorite person; she tries to visit him everyday in his prison cell."

"It's going to be difficult for her to be separated from her father," he said after sighing. "We will be complete strangers to her."

"She requested stories from Thor about Earth, so she probably knows about us."

"Loki probably told her stories about us, too."

"Then that will complicate things."

"From Thor described a year ago, Loki is a very good father. He quickly adapted to becoming a single parent. He loves his daughter more than anything. Even villains have morals."

Natasha released a light smile. "Loki is more complicated than we thought. I spoke to him while he was on the helicarrier, and he was terrifying. He tried to mess with my mind, even described how he would kill Barton in front of me. But the way he acts toward Eira is the opposite of the man I saw."

"We can't judge her for what her father did," Steve turned his head toward the door. "When can we meet her?"

"Anytime you're ready. But first, let me ask you a question. Why did you want to watch Eira?"

"I was going to ask you the same question. I know I slept for seventy years, but I'm pretty sure spies don't watch over little girls."

Steve remembered when Thor said that Loki was a single father. The man he fought was vicious and fearless, not the characteristics he associated with single parents. Steve would know, as he was raised by a single mother. His father died before he was even born. Stories were all he knew of Joseph Rogers. Sarah Rogers raised her son on her salary to her nurse. She took on the role of both parents until her date of death. He never imagined that a villainous conqueror such as Loki would have similar circumstances as his mother. Eira was essentially him: she never knew her mother and was raised solely by her father. He knew the feelings of being raised by a single parent. He felt the guilt of taking away his mother's free time and the wonder about the whereabouts of his father. Though she was almost seven, Eira probably had the same feelings.

Natasha stood up. "If we have the same question, then we probably have the same answer that we don't want to reveal. I've known you for a year, but I don't trust you with my secrets. I'm sure that you feel the same."

"You're right about that. I don't mean any offense, but I do not know you well enough."

Natasha nodded. "Let's go meet Eira."

She followed Steve as he walked out the door. Their reasons for caring for Eira were not similar, she knew. Steve wasn't raised by a heartless organization, bred to kill without sympathies, told not to cry when failures were discarded. All she recognized was death, and despite her reservations, she agreed to remove her womb of possible life.

* * *

_My dearest little one,_

_Sorry to leave you again while you were sleeping, but your uncle needed my help against the Dark Elves. This will work out for the both of us, as I plan to fake my disappearance. No longer will we have to meet in that prison cell with a lack of privacy._

_I must further apologize for making you wait. Thor will surely defeat Malekeith but not suspect my rise to the crown. For this to succeed, we must both retain our silence. I will once again pretend that I am gone, this way I can visit you whenever I can. There is a possibility that you can visit Asgard for a few days at a time. I can travel with you to various locations without the guards watching our every move._

_Perhaps this will be too much. I apologize for making you keep secrets for me. I wished we could live a peaceful life, but the current circumstances limit our flexibility. We must navigate through our situation, which is not ideal. The more I think about my plan, the more guilt fills my soul. I do not wish you any pain through my actions. If you are angry with me, I do not blame you._

_Regardless, I love you more than anything. I covet for your safe travels to Midgard._

_Wherever you are on Midgard, I hope for your safety. I clashed with the people who will care for you, but they should not direct those feelings toward you. Whatever happens, you will always be my little girl._

_-Your Father_

The letter once laid by Eira's bedside. She awoke in the morning, Hati in her grasp, and Loki nowhere in sight. Comfort was provided by the note, detailing his plans for their future. Instructing her to stay quiet was not completely necessary, as she would say nothing if it meant she could continue to see her father. The physical contents hidden with her magic, she feigned ignorance of Loki's whereabouts.

The guards escorted her to the Bifröst, and she traveled through the rainbow lights for the first time. Her first sight of Midgard was the halls of SHIELD base in Washington D.C. Eira had fearless traits, but the grim, indifferent expressions of the agents. A red-haired woman approached her with a warm smile, kneeling to her height and extending a hand.

"Hello, Eira," she had said. "My name is Natasha. Your uncle has told me a lot about you. Me and my friend Steve will be caring for you while you're on Earth."

Eira had a history of feeling uncomfortable when conversing with strangers. Their motives unknown, personalities mysterious, and traits untrustworthy. A high difficulty in acknowledging the unknown came naturally to Eira; even talking with those her age was a struggle. Only her family and their close friends were worthy certitude, Loki being the one most deserving of her confidence.

Descriptions of Natasha harmonized with Thor's tales of the Avengers, so Eira saw her as an expectation to her timid mindset. She shook her hand and followed her to the empty room, adorned with two chairs and a table, where she now sat.

_When is Natasha coming back? I don't know how long I've been in here. I miss Daddy, but he can't visit me now. I don't want him to get caught._

The door opened, a strong-muscled man with dirty blonde hair entering the room. Her shoulders tensed and she glanced at the side of the wall, her shy demeanor controlling her curiosity about the man. Fingers grasped the fabric of her teal jumpsuit (she had not changed from her attire from the previous day). She heard the footsteps of the man and the shriek of the chair as he moved it.

"Hello, my name is Steve Rogers," he greeted. "What's your name?"

Lady Saga taught her ladylike manners and the proper greeting. Her princess duties instructed her to start the conversation with kindness. The voice of her father echoed through her mind: Did this stranger deserve her respect?

"You already know my name, right?"

The man was not deterred. "I do, but I thought our first meeting should be proper. Your uncle told great things about you. Did he say anything about me?"

Eira tilted her head as she thought. The name Rogers was familiar. Loki mentioned a man was the same surname. A soldier, she remembered, with superhuman abilities. Frozen in ice for almost seventy years, he awoke to a world far advanced from his time. Despite his lengthy slumber, his powers remained intact.

"You're the man out of time," she finally looked into her bright blue eyes. "Captain America! Daddy and uncle told me about you!"

"That's me. Hopefully they told you good things."

"Thor said you are a brave warrior. Daddy said similar things, but I think he's mad that you defeated him."

Steve huffed a laugh. "I don't blame him."

"I know he did some bad things here. Do you dislike me for what he did?"

"Of course not. I can't blame you for something you didn't do."

Eira, still unsure of the man, nodded. Steve sighed.

"I'm not here to replace your father. He cares about you, and I don't want to disappoint him. I want to offer you protection, as does my friend Natasha. I work with her on missions. Sometimes we go together, sometimes it's separate. The arrangement is slightly awkward, but we'll get used to it. You'll stay with me one week, and Natasha the next."

"That is strange," Eira said, squinting her eyes.

"I know, but with our missions, we thought it would be best for you not to remain in one place. Our apartments are smaller than your home, but we will make it comfortable for you."

The situation felt skeptically peculiar. These strangers were kind to her, were familiar with her uncle, but she wondered if she could adapt to this land. The books she read did not prepare her for the various lifestyles contained in Midgard.

Thoughts made her ignore the tension building in her body; arms coming closer together and eyebrows creasing. Steve noticed, however.

"Hey, it's alright. Your nerves are completely understandable. We only know each other through stories. How about we leave this room? Natasha had to talk to someone and she's probably bored by now. Let's help her escape and get lunch at my place. We can tell one another a bit about ourselves. How does that sound?"

Eira's body slightly relaxed. "I guess it's okay. Will it be crowded where we're going?"

"Not at all," Steve stood up and went around the table, kneeling while holding at his hand. "It will just be you, me, and Nat."

The princess looked at his hand and then back into his eyes. She shrugged and nodded.

"You seem nice, Steve."

Steve nodded. "And so do you."

She grabbed his hand as she slid off the chair. Letting go of his hold, she looked up for guidance.

"Follow me," he instructed. "Nat should be out here."

Eira walked behind the soldier, seeing behind his leg for any dangers. Thin legs moved in front of him, the heels of the boots clicking on the floor.

"I hope your meeting went well," said the womanly voice. Eira tilted her body and saw Natasha. Steve giggled.

"I thought it was alright, but we'll have more to talk about during lunch."

"Eira, you can tell me the truth later. I don't think Steve has kissed someone since the 1940s."

The redhead's jest reminded Eira of her father. For the first time since she landed on Midgard, Eira smiled and laughed. Steve was about to scold Natasha, but he turned to Eira once he heard the high-pitched giggle.

Natasha forgot her spy demeanor and laughed with the princess. "Looks like Eira agrees with me."

"Great, now you're encouraged." Despite his scolding tone, Steve had a grin on his face.

The Russian gaze went to Eira. "I'm sure you will agree with this as well, Eira. It's a bit crowded in here. Steve has some food at his place. We can get more familiar with one another."

Eira finally spoke. "Do you mind if we go now? I'm pretty hungry. And I don't know if Thor told you this, but my species eats a lot of food. I hope you have enough."

Steve put on a hand on her shoulder. Eira did not retract. "That's fine by me. I still haven't gotten used to the idea of leftovers."

* * *

Spending three years outside of Asgard and confining within his cell did not deter Loki from forgetting the feeling of sitting on the royal throne. A struggle occurred within himself to not slyly grin as he spoke to Thor, proud of his triumph of securing the role of King without the neverending sight of Heimdall noticing. His grasp firm on the handle of the golden spear, his mind translated his achievement into a sense of indescribable power. He imagined seeing his daughter's excited face when she saw him perched on his rightful seat.

Thor's burly footsteps terminated their echoing. He knew that the guards against the walls outside the throne room. His magic powerfully flowed in his vein, prepared to hide the truth from Heimdall's eyes. No one would know that he was alive and watching his daughter.

He closed his eyes and attempted to sense her presence. As he felt her seidr, he configured her surroundings. His eyes narrowed upon perceiving two other figures. Her location alien to his sensibility, but the beings strangely recognizable. His hand twisted, commanding his magic to create the scenery of Eira's whereabouts.

A screen-like apparition appeared out of green smoke. Eira formed on the partition, sitting at a table with an empty plate in front of her. By her side: Steven Grant Rogers.

"Uncle said you two were in New York a year ago. When do you move to Washington D.C?"

Eira sat on a stool, looking up at the previously frozen man. Her outfit was different then the one she left in. Instead of a teal jumpsuit with embroidered silver, she wore black pants, an olive green sweater, and white sneakers. Her braid remained the same, but she looked like a typical Midgard. Loki almost sneered. His daughter was much better than those foolish Earthlings. She deserved to be treated like the princess she was everywhere she went. He recognized the danger in not hiding her true self. Appearing as a human was needed for her safety, but his ego was always arduous to dissuade.

"SHIELD gave me an apartment back in Brooklyn when I woke up. It was shortly after the Avengers formed. Fury transferred us to Washington D.C. The SHIELD base is located nearby, so it's easier to report missions to us."

"From all the stories I read about Midgard, everything happens in New York City. I don't think many have mentioned the capital of America."

Natasha finally entered the frame. "A lot has happened in New York, so it's a common setting for stories. It's very populated, making it difficult to travel for missions."

"The city is nice. A lot of tall buildings. I never saw so many of them gathered together in Asgard."

"Most major cities in America are like that, but we won't take you to the city now. You'll stay in our apartments for a bit. There is a park and some stores nearby. We were planning to get you more clothes and toys that suit you."

"Not a lot of toys," Steve added. "We don't want to spoil you. We do want to know what you like."

Eira put a finger on chin. Loki could never hide his smile whenever his daughter acted unintentionally cute.

"I like to read. I think I get it from my Daddy; he would always read me bedtime stories. The library at the palace has many books, but I don't think it has many current Midgardian books."

"It's nice to see kids have a passion for reading," spoke Natasha. "Is there anything else? Do you like to play with toys?"

"Are there stuffed animals on Earth? I have a plush wolf named Hati, but I feel I'm too old for toys. I brought him with me. Please don't make fun of me."

Eira slightly stretched her arm and held her hand palm up. A viridescent mist arose as she formed Hati. A rush of pride burst in Loki's chest. _Damn, she is incredibly advanced in her magic,_ he thought. _She will probably become more powerful than me._

The spy and soldier were also amazed, but it was more a consequence of their bewilderment. This little girl hid her stuffed animal into… an abyss, and returned it to reality without a struggle. Loki guessed that was what they thought. Their Midgardian brains could not comprehend the nature of seidr and his daughter's skill.

The princess glanced back and forth at their astonied faces. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done magic without permission. I know magic is not common on Midgard."

"Don't apologize," Steve responded as his shoulders relaxed. "You like to do magic, it's a part of your culture. We'll allow you to do your magic here, but nothing dangerous and not in public."

Eira swiftly nodded. "That sounds fair."

Her fingers tightly held the plush toy. The self-appointed king's heart nearly melted at the sight. The toy her mother had gifted to her before she was born, the object beloved by Eira since her birth.

"Oh," Eira jumped. "I forget to answer your question, Natasha. I like to play with things that boys like. I don't know why, but I don't like toys that girls like. I like to play with them, though. Is that bad?"

"Not at all," Natasha responded without hesitation. "You can like whatever you want, as long as it doesn't hurt people. You don't have to restrict yourself to gender norms."

The girl grinned. "Thank you! I hope other kids my age will understand. Wait, will I be going to school?"

"Not initially," comforted Steve. "We're getting a tutor arranged for you. I know that you're very smart, but we need to make sure you can blend in with other students when we eventually send you to school."

The smile disappeared from her face. Her other hand grabbed Hati and clutched the toy close to her chest. Petite lips trembled as she looked at her lap.

"I have to be with other kids, without my family or you guys? I don't know if I can..."

Natasha placed her hand on Eira's back and moved it up and down. "Don't worry," she whispered, rubbing the young girl's curly raven locks. "This won't happen until a couple months into your stay. Your uncle told us that you're socially anxious. We want to protect you, and that also means making sure that you are comfortable. Plus whatever school you goto will be checked by SHIELD sources. We'll take precautions to secure your safety and protect your secrets from others."

Loki's face softened as the spy and soldier consoled his only child. He felt largely responsible for Eira's social anxiety and lack of female role models. As a single father, he raised his daughter with his morals and played with her in activities informal to him. Their time together was spent doing ventures normally associated with males. His traits were noticed by her and she was his hero, so Eira developed similarly to him, albeit with some differences. She had female role models such as Sif and Frigga, but they encouraged her to pursue her passions. Perhaps if Runa was alive, then Eira's would have a different personality, but he could not imagine his daughter any other way and he knew Runa would have been proud. He mainly felt guilty for causing timidness to arise in Eira. His daughter was accidentally conceived, which he did not care for, as she gave him indescribable joy, but all the royal children were older than her. Always the youngest in any social gathering, she awkwardly spoke to kids while suppressing the urge to hide behind her father's leg. Siri and Daven were close with the princess, but their age difference occasionally showed itself.

He wanted Eira to learn how to talk with other children, yet these Midgardian children were not worthy of her presence. Such simple-minded creatures were less than inferior to his daughter, too incompatent and pathetic to have the attention of a demi-goddess. Her potential neverending power compared their puny value jackknifed his blood, engaged his urge to stab and kill. How dare these feeble Avengers force his daughter to…

"Maybe that's for the best," Eira spoke, a sudden smile on her pale face. "I'm a princess of the Nine Realms, so I have to know Midgard well. This is a good chance for me!"

Wait, she wanted to be around infirm Earthling children? When did she have this intention?

"You are very serious about your duties as a princess," Steve commented.

"I have to be," she responded. "If I want to be a good princess, then I have to understand the Realms. Maybe I can become Queen."

_She has my ambition, too,_ thought Loki. _She's almost seven, and yet she has such grand plans._

Loki was aware of Eira's interest in all the realms, though clueless to her passions as a princess. The signs were clear, he realized, so there was no reason for surprise. He also had a dream to be crowned King of Asgard, but he never thought about the well being of his subject. His desire was directed more toward power, the yearning to have a superiority to Thor and impress Odin. Those were different, rather simple - as simple as life as a god could be - times.

The enjoyment of seeing his daughter's excitement ended abruptly. He remembered scheduling a meeting with Heimdall, the Warriors Three, and Sif to locate the missing prisoners as he heard the halls shake with their footsteps. Waving his hand, the screen disappeared. He straightened his stance and prepared for impersonating the All-Father. A thousand years of transforming into others and exgattering their traits prepared him for this moment.

* * *

Her new bedroom was indeed smaller than her palace chambers, although adapting, she predicted, would arise without challenge. The bed stood by a window, the sheets a moss green matching the deep sea blue of the curtains. A bookcase laid against the wall, the shelves filled with books of varying reading levels. Grey carpet ran through the entire floor. A built-in closet was scarce in clothes, coordinating the rather empty room.

Eira finally had the chance to explore her bedroom. After eating chicken noodle soup for lunch, Natasha left and Steve discussed with her the materials they needed to purchase tomorrow. For the reminder of the day they planned to stay in his apartment. She already desired some alone time, and luckily the opportunity rose when Steve received a call and was ordered to speak with someone in private.

She approached the bed and began to recreate objects she brought with her via magic. Magic books, material from for sparring sessions, the blankets from her father's bed. Arranging the various objects on her bed, she looked for places to put them.

"Your living arrangements are much better than I initially thought."

The deep voice entered her ears, earning an excited grin from the princess. She turned around, immediately seeing the warm smile of her father. She ran up to him, hugging him as soon as she was close, not bothered by his armor. Loki's grip was firm and protective.

"I am so glad to see you, Eira," he whispered. "And do not worry about speaking: I have muted this room and altered the signal of the security cameras."

"I'm happy to see you, Daddy," said Eira. "I was so worried."

"I know how to handle myself in battle," Loki removed his arms from her back, though he kept a hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry for putting you through this, again."

Eira giggled and shook her head. "You keep saying that, but I don't mind."

"There is an immense guilt within me. I keep faking my disappearances, and forcing you to keep it a secret. You're so young, I should not make you act so deviously."

The princess shrugged. "You are kind of right. I miss when we could be together whenever. Meeting in secret is hard, but I want to be with you. You're my only parent. You're all I have."

Loki felt tears in the corner of his eyes. Despite his former vicious, power-hungry actions, she still loved him. His biological family left him to die soon after his birth. Laufey ordered him to die alone, and killed Faurbauti, his loyal wife, for birthing a runt while successfully mothering two sons beforehand. His blood relatives discarded him without hesitation, but Eira was different.

She had a neverending love for her father, her only living biological relative.

"Daddy, why are you crying?" Eira approached Loki, wiping the tears falling from his face. "Did I say something? What happe-"

Loki pulled Eira into another hug, interrupting her questioning.

"Thank you, Eira," he whispered. "I love you, more than anything. Don't you ever forget that."

The King felt tiny arms wrap around his neck. "I love you, too."

The hug ended after a few moments, Loki pulling away and stroking a curl loose from Eira's braid. "You are so brave, my little one. I am so proud of you, and so is your mother. She is smiling from Valhalla, I am sure."

"Really?" Her eyes widened.

"Of course she is. I am unaware of children who would travel to a new time for an indefinite amount of time. I realize that you have some reasonable fears, but you are willing to face them. The courage within you is immeasurable."

"Thor told me about his Midgardian friends, but I was still scared to meet them. They're really nice. Natasha is funny and doesn't care that I don't like girly things. Steve is also kind and seems to care about me."

"I had some reservations about them too, but they have a strong urge to protect you. They want your stay on Earth to have no discomfort or difficulties. I'm surprised by how much they understand you and your needs."

"I'm still scared of meeting kids. I don't know how to talk to Midgardian kids. I don't even know how to talk to Asgardian kids."

"Eira," Loki put a hand on her shoulder. "You are the bravest girl in the universe. I have seen you fall and respond with no tears. You can overcome this with ease. I will aid you, and so will Steve and Natasha."

Eira nodded in excitement, but her eyes widened when she heard footsteps. Loki rubbed her head in reassurance.

"I will visit you tomorrow. I can visit you anytime I want."

The smile returned. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

Loki stood up. "I love you. Be good."

His physical form disappeared, his advanced magic and knowledge of the hidden entrances aiding him while visiting his daughter.

"This room is rather nice," spoke a familiar, bruly voice.

Eira turned around, seeing Thor, wearing Midgardian clothing - black denim jacket, grey shirt, and blue jeans, his long, flowing hair tied away from his face - leaning against his doorway.

"Uncle Thor!" she yelled, running up to him as he kneeled and opened his arms. "How did you get here?"

"Heimdall sent me to your location," he responded, letting go of his niece and adjusting his jacket. "I wanted to speak with you. It's about your father."

Her expression turned neutral, looking down at his sock-covered feet. "He's missing, isn't he?"

Thor backed a few centimeters, eyes widening as his head twitched. "How di- how did you know?"

Green eyes remained focused on her feet. "I had a feeling. I know you left the realm of the Dark Elves a couple of hours ago, so he should have visited me by now."

The God of Thunder gulped nervously. "You're right. He disappeared sometime during our fight with Malekith on Svartalfheim. Heimdall cannot sense his presence. I thought maybe he had visited you, but I guess not. Eira, are you lying to me."

"No, don't accuse me of something like that. Well, I did lie to you, grandma, and grandpa about him before, but not this time! I promise!"

"I trust you, Eira. But if you know something or if he visits you, you need to tell someone. We need to secure your father's safety. The Nine Realms are already in chaos, and we could use his help in restoring balance."

"If he visits me, I will tell you."

Thor smiled. "That is all I need."

He stood up, holding up his arm by his side. Mjolnir entered his grasp.

"Hey! Can you not do that in my place?" Steve shouted from another room.

"Sorry, Rogers!" Thor said, feeling semi-guilty.

"You have to go already?" Eira asked with disappointment.

"I wish I could stay longer, but I have to inspect the other realms. The Bifrost is nearly prepared, so I have to be there to observe their current state. I should return soon, however, and it will probably be a longer stay."

"You're going to see Jane more, aren't you," Eira said with her father's grin. She could hear Steve laugh.

Thor blushed. "Well, yes. She is my girlfriend, so I have to see her. Nevermind that. Goodbye, Eira. I hope to see you soon."

He almost lifted his arm in the small hallway, but quickly refrained.

"I probably shouldn't do that indoors. I'll go outside."

* * *

Maybe it was selfish to leave Asgard to visit his lover instead of aiding his allies in repairing the realms, but his love for Jane Foster was immense.

And no one saw what they saw.

Both were at Svartalfheim with Loki. They witnessed Kurse stab Loki and throw his body into the air. They watched the Malekith and the Dark Elves leave with the Reality Stone. Jane observed Thor turning to embrace his brother and heal his wounds, but only found fields of rock and dust.

Loki disappeared.

His body was nowhere in sight.

Thor could not focus on the whereabouts of his brother, as the threat of Malekith utilizing the power of the Reality Stone was in greater need of his attention. The back of his mind filled with theories as to how Loki could have used his magic to flee as he battled the leader of the Dark Elves.

Aesir magic was herculean, but not limitless. With his seidr Loki could change his appearance and voice, create and hide objects, develop a strong telekinesis, but teleportation was not included. Pondering further, Thor wondered if Loki turned himself invisible, muted himself so neither Thor nor Jane could hear his feet against the rocky terrain. Loki was a genius and strategist, well-aware of the many gateways to travel across the realms without the knowledge of Heimdall.

After ordering Heimdall to transport him from Washington D.C. to London - and forgetting to apologize to Steve for ruining the greenery outside his apartment complex - he stood outside her living quarters, expecting her to notice the unfathomable blast of light. She did, running out of her apartment to give the god a deep kiss, ignoring the many Londoners who could possibly observe their public display of affection.

She guided him to her apartment in silence, noticing his sudden solemn expression.

"Is something wrong?" she questioned. "Did your father say something?"

Thor sighed and stopped walking. Jane rubbed his arm in solace. "Thor, tell me."

"It's Eira."

"Eira? Is she okay? Did she get hurt?"

"No, physically she is fine. She is on Earth right now. She is living with Rogers. Oh, you probably know him as Captain America. I spoke with her before coming to you."

"Is she adjusting alright?"

"It appears so. I told her about Loki's disappearance."

"Heimdall couldn't find him? I don't know where he could go with his injury. Eira must have been upset."

"That's the strange part: she displayed no emotion when I told her. She told me that she had a feeling that she may have left. No tears, no tantrum, just acceptance."

"That is not usual for a six-year-old."

"No, it is not. I think she knows more than us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS MEME!  
> My readers after seeing that Eira has a middle name:  
> 
> 
> Them learning that it is slightly canon in an alternative universe:  
> 
> 
> Here is the source: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Sylene_Lokisd%C3%B3ttir_(Earth-982)


	9. Do Me a Favor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Loki trailer is officially the best thing that has arose from 2020. The trailer has cleared my skin and cured my depression. My life is filled with happiness. I will spend my days anticipating Tom Hiddleston to stab a bitch.

A woven acrylic blanket was wrapped around Eira. She sat up on her new bed, looking out the window at the night sky; the tall buildings against the starry background. Her fingers rubbed the shades of green and black fabric, intricately shown a thousand of years ago when her father was about her age.

"Are you feeling alright?"

Eira turned her attention to Steve approaching her bed with concern. He sat down at the end of the bed, his eyes filled with worry.

"Not completely," she answered. "I'm still unsure about Midgard. You and Natasha seem nice, but I don't know about everyone else. I miss my home, too. I miss Daddy."

"Everything you're feeling makes sense," Steve rubbed her back in comfort. "It's okay to be scared. It is your first day, so we didn't expect you to trust us completely so soon."

Her grip on the blankets tightened. "I hope Daddy is safe. I know I did some bad things, but I love him."

"He's your father and he loves you, so it's natural that you care for him. Me and your father didn't get along the first time we met, but I hope for your sake that he's found."

Eira nodded, feigning acceptance while reflecting on her lies. Well, she wasn't completely lying. Although she was aware of his whereabouts, she missed him. After his escape, she wished they could be together without the rules set by her grandfather. That chance was ruined when she was ordered to Midgard for her safety. Like three years ago, she could only see Loki in secret. She agreed with her family that Midgard was the safest realm and a valuable source of protection, but she couldn't forget the presence of her father. But their methods of meeting would be more flexible, she realized. No longer a hologram, Loki could physically transport himself to her location. SHIELD also allowed her to visit Asgard for definite amounts of time, where her father could spend quality moments with her without a fear of interruptions or discovery.

"Daddy is the only parent I have." Tears were visible in her jade eyes. "My Mummy was forced to go to Valhalla when I was a baby. He took care of me alone. It's hard without him,"

She failed to notice her own sobs until Steve pulled her into an embrace.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this, Eira," he spoke after shushing her. "I'm sure your father wishes he could see you. I understand why you miss me so much. I had the same feelings as you."

"How?" Eira questioned as she looked up, barely holding her wails.

"I was also raised by a single parent. Like you, my father left when I was young. My mother raised me by herself."

Steve remembered Sarah Roger's warm smile and kind tone; her comforting presence was almost enough to heal his poor health. He then remembered the maniac grin of Loki, his blood-thirsty, selfish speeches as he prepared to end the lives of the innocent. Both were given the daunting duty to act as both parents. Perhaps, like Sarah, Loki read her bedtimes stories or sang her to sleep. Maybe he suppressed his own needs to focus on those of his daughter: aiding her while she was sick or sad, momentarily forgetting his own struggles. Eira had more living relatives than he, but assistance did not deter the difficulties of single parenting.

Loki had two sides to him, Steve realized. He was a mischievous, power-hungry god to his enemies, and a considerate father to Eira. The stories from Thor and Eira served as a confirmation.

"Is that why you wanted to care for me?" The tears ended, but the temporary stains on her pink face were a reminder.

"You're very insightful," he stated. "And yes, that was one of the reasons. But, if I'm honest, I accidentally overheard your uncle talking about you. I couldn't deny protection to someone who could possibly need it."

"And what about Natasha?"

"I don't know. She has a lot of secrets. I imagine that she didn't have an enjoyable childhood."

Eira readjusted the blanket. "That's sad, but she seems better now."

"I think she is too. You'll know more about her next week."

"What will I be doing with you this week."

"Well, tomorrow I was planning to buy you some things to make you more comfortable here. You know what, let's not do that. I think it is best if we learn more about each other."

Eira sighed. "I really didn't want to go outside tomorrow, I'm still afraid. What will we do?"

"Like you, I am not fully accustomed to this time. We could learn about history and pop culture together. I have a list of things to catch up on. One of those things is pizza. It's a combination of bread and cheese, and some like it with vegetables or meat. I also have a list of movies. Do you have those on Asgard."

Eira shook her head.

"No? Well there are similar to plays but recorded for people to see. I missed a lot of iconic ones. People kept recommending the "Indiana Jones" films; they are historical, which I think you might like. There are also these space movies called "Star Wars", but those are a bit difficult to watch. Apparently they need to be watched in a certain order."

"Movies sound interesting. I would like to watch one."

Steve smiled. "I would too."

He stood up from the bed. "It's getting late. I think both of us should get to bed."

"I'm already in bed."

He laughed. "Well then I should get to bed. It's been a long day for both of us. Can you fall asleep on your own?"

"I can."

Eira laid her back against the mattress, pulling the blanket over her shoulders as she nuzzled her head on the pillow.

"Good night, Eira," Steve said before shutting the door.

"Good night, Steve."

* * *

Her new room was more personality-driven than her one back in Asgard, Loki noted. Two shelves of books laid near a desk, their genres wide in range. An open notebook sat on said desk, colored pencils and pens by its side. The room's accessories were green, blue, and purple. Above her bed was a painted picture of a wolf, impressive to Loki's royal standards of art.

Before he arrived, she was building some structure, the pieces pre-packaged and instructions on how to sculpt it. Loki deduced it was probably some Midgardian toy. Upon beginning their conversation, Eira noticed his confusion.

"Natasha bought this for me yesterday," she stated, holding up the structure for Loki. "It belongs to a collection called Legos. I went shopping with Steve a few days ago and noticed them. Natasha thought I might like this one. It's a smaller version of the Imperial Hotel. It's in Japan. Have you been there, Daddy?"

"No, I have not," Loki responded, looking at the incomplete structure. "I usually visit European countries, though I am aware of Japan. Its culture and architecture is unique compared to those of other countries. Maybe Midgardian toys are more sophisticated than I thought."

"Toys on Earth are more interactive. Though I still have Hati."

Eira pointed to the stuffed wolf, its paws placed delicately on her bed. Loki looked at its direction with a smile.

"I'm glad you still have him. Your Mother would have been delighted."

"I hope she would," Eira's facial expression changed, her eyes widened in remembrance. "Oh, I forgot. I was going to place this picture of you on my desk."

A piece of paper appeared out of thin air into Eira'a hand. She handed the picture to her father.

His appearance had changed in recent years, he contended as he observed the small painting. He concluded that it was painted a year or two before her birth, judging by forming cheekbones and shorter, greased-back hair. His green eyes were more absolved, not tainted by his attempts of genocide and blood-stained power.

"I forget this picture of me existed," he commented. "So many paintings have been created of me, so I do not pay attention when one is finished."

"I don't like sitting down for those paintings," spoke Eira, taking the picture back into her hold. "They take too long."

"I can't help but agree. If you want, I can give you a replica painting of us together. There is one when you were just a baby and another when you were three."

"Really?" She went closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Do you have one with you now?"

"Not currently, but I get you a picture by the end of the day."

"Thank you, Daddy!"

"No, thank you, my little one, for bringing me joy."

Their embrace lasted for a few moments. Eira let go, sitting close in front of him.

"How is Asgard?" she asked. "Is Uncle Thor alright? Does he know?"

Loki shook his head. "No, he has absolutely no clue about my whereabouts. He has diverted his focus to battling his enemies and his relationship with Jane."

"I like her," Eira commented. "She is smart, which might help Thor."

"I am still amazed you inherited my quips. Your uncle might benefit from her intelligence. When I was on Earth, I learned she is one of the smartest humans."

"She wrote me a letter. She wanted me to learn more and ignore people who don't think I can. She likes how I don't limit myself by my gender."

"You're an ambitious girl, Eira. I encouraged you to participate in activities you enjoy, even if others discourage you. I love you just the way you are, but they are some people who will not acknowledge you because of your sex."

"But Grandma and Miss Saga said it's okay for me to enjoy things that boys like."

"Some people are ignorant to the capabilities of women. Eira, you have such potential, but if you meet a man who attempts to discredit you, question his reasoning and demonstrate your abilities. Challenge the world and motivate others. If the situation becomes more tense, don't be afraid to stab."

"Daddy, that's mean, but maybe I will need to do that. Why are people so hateful?"

"Because they are idiots. Sexist men fail to realize their own limits and direct the hate for themselves toward women. Those men do not matter. Don't even waste your breath for them."

Eira nodded passionately. "Alright. I think I can do that. I won't let anyone be mean to me!"

Loki rubbed the top of her head "That's my girl."

* * *

" _So he really has a daughter?"_

" _Clint, I told you about this a year ago. We've fought terrorists and aliens, so this isn't the most shocking discovery in our careers."_

" _I know, Nat. It's just hard to imagine the guy that brainwashed me is also a father. What's she like?"_

_Natasha laughed over the phone. After finishing lunch with Steve and Eira, she returned to her apartment and called Clint. She planned to prepare for Eira's arrival to her place, but upon witnessing the introverted behavior of the young girl, she decided to talk with her partner._

" _Her name is Eira, and she looks exactly like her father: black hair, green eyes, even his nose. She quips, but hers are not as harsh as Loki's. She is very considerate and curious, but she is extremely timid. She wasn't initially comfortable talking with me and Steve and started crying when I mentioned that she would eventually go to school. Thor mentioned that she is overly attached to her father, which makes sense, as he is her only living parent. Apparently she was the youngest of the noble children, so she isn't great interacting with others her age."_

" _Well that's concerning. I suppose that based on your sudden call, your plan to fix that involves me."_

" _I'll leave the final decision up to you, but I thought maybe Eira could meet Cooper and Lila. There's a park near my place where we could meet up. It might help her social anxiety. I won't force this on you, though. I'll understand if you deny..."_

" _Natasha," Clint interrupted. "I'll do it. Lila is the same age as Eira, so I'm sure they'll get along. She's not dangerous, just a little girl who also happens to be a demi-goddess."_

" _Thanks, Clint. Sorry this is on such short notice. I can arrange a private flight for you. I hope Laura is okay with this."_

" _I'm sure she'll be thankful for the break, and Cooper and Lila will be happy to have a new playmate."_

" _I can't thank you enough. Eira really needs this."_

" _It's very clear that she does. I think you may also need some help. You probably don't have much experience with children."_

" _Not at all."_

_A year and a half ago she volunteered to put Eira in her care. She sensed that Eira would probably be brought to Earth for protection, but mental preparations did not cultivate her for Eira's sudden presence. Some assistance from an experienced parent would provide relief._

"Eira!" Natasha called, walking to the girl's room. "I could go for some fresh air and I think you could too."

The spy opened the door, seeing Eira sitting on the carpeted floor, patterns of green dust in the air around her.

"Were you practicing your magic?" Nat questioned.

The princess nodded. "Yes. I'm not used to performing my magic here, so I thought I could practice here."

"Practice always helps, but you can only do it around me or Steve, not in public."

"I know. I don't want to scare any Midgardians. Do you say something about going somewhere?"

"Yes. There's a park nearby. I scheduled to meet a friend there. He has kids your age."

Eira's body tensed. "You want me to play with them."

Natasha moved to sit across from the girl. "I know you are nervous around new people, but you can trust his kids. His daughter is the same age as you, and his son is two years older. He's also a friend of your uncle, so you can rely on him."

"I guess I can try to play with them. You don't want me to mention my family with them, right?"

"I think Clint told them that you're an alien, so they'll understand that and be patient with you. Just don't perform magic or do anything strange around them."

"I think I can do that. I hope they are nice."

"His kids are very kind. I'm sure they'll like playing with you. We should get going. I'll get your coat if you put on your shoes."

"Okay."

Eira stood up from the floor, walking into the living room as her eyes scanned for her black converses. Natasha went to the coat rack near the door, grabbing a leather jacket for herself and a lime, light zip-up sweatshirt for Eira. She approached her boots, near where Eira was putting on her shoes, handing the girl her sweatshirt, which she responded with a simple "thank you". As she was focused on putting on the jacket, Natasha reached for her handgun, placing it in a holster sewn into her jacket.

She opened the door and walked out of her apartment, Eira following from behind.

"Stay close to me," Nat softly commanded. Eira responded with a nod.

The two traveled through a few streets, Eira staying in close distance to Natasha's leg. Although not many people were walking along, Natasha understood Eira's anxiety. Beside the sidewalk where they moved were cars, an unfamiliar form of transportation to an Asgardian. The many bright lights representing foreign signals were daunting.

During their walk Natasha made several attempts to hold the girl's hand. Not grabbing the smaller hand, she instead held out her own, expecting Eira to grasp it. She sensed Eira eying the hold before glancing away.

 _Still not used to me_ , she concluded.

Natasha guided Eira to the farthest corner of the park, away from the gaze of the public eye for the sake of their privacy and Eira's mentality. As they continued walking, Natasha slowly saw the figures of Clint and his children over the horizon. Eira noticed the figures a few moments after Nat; the Russian sensed the girl tense but still followed.

The figure of Clint was kneeling in front of his kids, presumably discussing their upcoming playdate. He stood up and glanced to the open, grassy landscape, waving when she saw Natasha and Eira. Nat waved back and proceeded approaching the family with a smile.

Eira's uncertainty lingered as the figures were becoming more apparent. Originally gray and still, their hues cleared and movements turned visible. She saw the excited jump of a girl and the enthusiastic expression of the boy. Her body froze, fingers intensely clutching the hems of her sweatshirt, feet firmly stanced to the dirt below.

Sensing the lack of movement behind her, Natasha turned around, seeing the wide-eyed alien holding back her tears. She approached Eira, kneeling down and putting a loose strand of hair away from her face.

"I know you're scared," she began. "But I trust these people, your uncle trusts them. They won't hurt you, they won't reveal your secret to others, they won't cause you any harm. You'll enjoy playing with them, I promise."

"I know, but I still feel strange."

"Everything will be alright, Eira."

"Hello, Natasha," spoke Clint as he approached the duo, kids in tow.

His daughter appeared from behind his leg, tilting her head at Eira.

"Your eyes are very pretty," said the girl.

Eira looked at the ground, pushing her foot against the grass.

"Thank you," Eira responded, her voice almost a whisper.

"Lila," scolded the boy, suddenly appearing in Eira's line of vision. "You have to introduce yourself first."

Lila frowned, purposely deepening it for the effect. "But I gave her a compliment. I'm sorry. My name is Lila, and this is my annoying brother, Cooper."

Cooper scoffed from behind his sister. The demi-goddess's face lightened slightly. She unclenched her fingers from her sweatshirt.

"My name is Eira. Nice to meet you."

The siblings smiled. "It's also nice to meet you," spoke Lila. "Daddy showed us a playground. Do you want to play there?"

Lila aimed her finger to the playground a few yards away, which Eira followed, eyes brightening upon witnessing the structure. From what Thor told her, Eira was easily entertained by physical, yet safe, play.

"That looks like fun," Eira commented. "What can you do on it?"

Lila grabbed her hand. "We'll show you."

Her nerves spiked upon the sudden grasp of her hand, yet as she scanned the kind smiles of Lila and Connor and the lack of hostility between Clint and Natasha, she decided to temporarily put her trust in the youngest Barton.

The young trio jogged to the playground, leaving the adults alone. Barton moved by Natasha's side, observing his children interact with their new playmate.

"When you said she looks a lot like him," Clint said. "I didn't think she would be his female clone."

Natasha huffed a light laugh. "I was amazed too. Her facial shape and hair texture are different, but other than that, she is the female version of Loki. Her eyes are wider though, more innocent."

"When I was under his control, he mentioned his plan for him and his daughter. Said that she gave him purpose. I don't think she would appreciate the destruction he caused. Didn't mention a mother at the time, but I later learned she was dead."

"Thor said her mother was a servant that Loki fell in love with and so did she. I think he truly loved her, more considerate than most romances I've seen or heard. After a few months of dating, they conceived Eira. She died in childbirth. She was pregnant with a half-breed, after all, but she and Loki didn't know that."

"That probably wrapped his mind. Finding out you're a hated race and that it influenced your lover's death, not exactly healthy for one's mentality. I'm not excusing what he did, as that is inexcusable. Does she know?"

"Yes. She told me that her grandmother revealed that a few months ago. They probably learned their lesson with Loki."

"I'm surprised they didn't regret it sooner," Clint sighed, shaking his head and clicking his son. "The ruthless Loki I witnessed doesn't match his passionate fatherly attitude toward Eira. I understand a duty toward your kids as a father, but everything he did and believes, it just doesn't make sense."

"She is his only biological family, proof of the feelings of affection between him and his lover. His care for her is most likely influenced by his task as a single father. Loki is a single father; learned that a year ago, but it still feels strange."

"That psychopath is a single parent. I don't like the guy, but I have to say, he did a pretty good job at being a father."

The archer held out his hand, directing Natasha to look at the smiling faces of the children at the playground. Her mind juxtaposed Eira's unease moments ago to the bright, engaging smile currently etched onto her face. She giggled at what the Barton children said and told something intangible in response, all of them laughing together.

"Eira is doing better," Natasha commented. "She's slowly opening up, but her social anxiety needs improvement. She is more vocal about what she likes. Yesterday, when I picked her up from Steve's apartment, "Do I Wanna Know?" by the Arctic Monkeys was playing, and she said she liked it. Then that song "Feel Good Inc" played afterwards, which she also enjoyed. A princess appreciates alternative rock; never thought I would speak that sentence."

"The black hair matches that interest," Clint quipped.

They laughed, Natasha jokingly hitting Clint in the arm. They sobered after a few seconds, simply watching the kids nativate the playground.

"When is your next mission?" said Clint, interrupting their observational bliss.

"Whatever Fury assigns me. I'll probably be working with Rogers."

"You have babysitting arrangements for Eira arranged when that happens."

"We'll get an agent to watch her."

"Natasha, you're a smart person and I appreciate your opinions, but I don't think that's the best idea. Judging by her extreme nerves, it won't be a pleasant situation for her or the agent assigned to protect her. But if she were with me and Laura, then maybe she would be calmer."

"Clint, I'm not going to burden you with babysitting."

"I'm already permanently babysitting two kids, another for a temporary amount of time won't add any difficulty."

"I don't want to stress Laura."

"I told Laura about her a few days ago. She was reasonably skeptical at first, but she agreed to let the kids see her. She actually told me to offer to watch her while you're at work."

Natasha shifted her body to face Clint, her eyes analyzing him for motivations and emotions.

"You won't stop pestering me until I say yes," she commented.

"Lila's room is big enough for Eira to sleep with her, and we have a guest room," Clint immediately responded. "Cooper and Lila are semi-aware of her origins and promised not to tell anybody. And you told me that Eira kept her father's whereabouts a secret for two years, so she won't tell anyone about my family if we instruct her to do so."

Natasha returned her gaze to the energetic children.

"That is a fair arrangement," she answered, eyes focused on a giggling Eira.

* * *

Steve removed the chain of the punching bag from its hook, placing it on his shoulder as he walked to a rack where he eventually settled it. A gym bag laid on a nearby bench, its zipper pulled open by Steve, a beige towel removed from its confinements. He rubbed the towel on his forehead, removing the visible sweat. Grabbing the handles, he turned around to move toward the showers, though the travel to his destination was shortened when he saw Eira lifting a weight.

"Eira," he said. "Be careful with that."

The princess faced Steve, weight in hand, the number "50" on its sides now visible. A frown formed as she angled the weight.

"But it doesn't hurt to lift. Asgardians are stronger than humans, so I'm fine. But I am only half Aesir, but the Jotnar are strong too."

"I realize that you're stronger than us humans, but you can't do that without thinking first. Something could fall on you, or someone could see and get suspicious."

"I won't let anything fall on me! I have telekinesis to protect myself. And we're the only people here. But I get it. It's dangerous to use my powers in public. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," Steve reassured, putting his hand on her shoulder and rubbing it. "You're still not used to how things work on Earth. Just listen to me and Natasha, and you'll be alright."

"I will."

"Alright."

Steve removed his hand from her shoulder as he stood up, smelling his sweat, remembering his initial plan for a shower.

"I have to take a shower. Can you entertain yourself for a few minutes?"

Eira nodded, using her head to gesture toward her moss green backpack laying against the wall. "I have a book in there. I can finish a chapter while I wait."

"Sorry for doing this on your birthday. How about this: I'll get you hot chocolate and your choice of breakfast from a diner nearby. We won't eat there, I'll get it as takeout and we'll eat back at the apartment."

"I don't mind. You need to exercise for your job. This better be a good breakfast."

Steve smiled in response as he opened the room to the showers.

She walked to her backpack, unzipping it and taking out a book. The hardcover spine of _A Wrinkle in Time_ , smooth and durable, was firm in her grasp, though her attention was diverted to the aliceblue, unfamiliar bookmark between two of the pages. She pulled it away from the book, discovering her own name, written with her father's handwriting.

Looking behind, she saw no evidence of Steve's presence in the room, further reassured by the sound of the water. Without hesitation, her finger removed the bookmark from the book. She set the book on her backpack as she noticed that the paper itself was folded. She unfolded the paper and read its contents.

_Eira,_

_Seven years ago, I held you in my arms for the first time. You were so small with a full head of hair, it was the most glorious sight. That image is juxtaposed with your modern self in my mind. Similar to your newborn self, you are stubborn and courageous. I am proud to be your father, and although I cannot see her, I picture your mother smiling at you from Valhalla._

_I wish I could celebrate the anniversary of your birth by your side, but my duties as a king are overwelcoming. Today I will attempt to hide my disappointment of not being with you as I attend meetings. Do not fret, my little one, as I will arrive during the night; no one will demand my whereabouts and creating an apparition of your sleeping grandmother will provide no complications._

_I have a present arranged for you when the time of our meeting arrives. You should find pleasure in the gifts of your uncle and his friends beforehand, though as I write this, I wonder if the presents served as a form of surprise. I am sure that feigning puzzlement will prove no difficulty for you._

_I am in anticipation for our gathering tonight._

_Love, Your Father_

Her smile held as she read every word, every punctuation. Even after her eyes finished transcribing the contents of the letter, she held onto the thick paper.

The sound of water hitting the ground abruptly stopped. Eira quickly folded the paper and placed it between the book's cover and the first page. As she waited for Steve to enter the gym, probably dressed in different, more relaxing clothing, she prepared to hide her impatience for the night.

* * *

"Brunch? That's a word? It's just addings the words 'breakfast' and 'lunch'. Humans are strange."

"I can't help but agree," Steve responded as he put the dirty dishes in the sink. "That wasn't a thing back in my time, but languages change, so maybe I shouldn't be surprised."

"It's still strange," said Eira, stroking her finger on the marble countertop.

"Our neighbor, Kate, told me about it. Last week, while you were at Natasha's, she was leaving for brunch with her friends when I got back from the gym. I guess I made a confused face, since he had to explain it to me."

"Kate? Is that the nurse from next door?"

"Yes. You haven't met her yet. We only talk in the hall, but she's nice."

"Oh."

Eira sat up straight in her stool, staring at the door to her room, bored after finishing her large breakfast. She swung her legs, her feet occasionally hitting the table.

Steve turned around after placing the last dish in the sink, choosing to clean them later. Facing Eira, he placed his hands on the countertop, grasping it as his back leaned against it.

"Happy seventh birthday. What do you usually do on your birthday?"

Her interest captivated, she put her finger on her chin as she considered her answer. "Well, my Daddy usually spends most of the day with me. We travel somewhere for a few hours and then we return to the palace where I get gifts and my favorite foods. Daddy knows I don't like big crowds, so it's nice of him to give us alone time, but I think he also does it because his birthday is the next day."

"Your birthday is the day before your dad's. That's pretty cool."

"I like it, too. It makes me feel closer to him."

"I'm sorry that he couldn't be here today, and neither could your uncle - I guess he had to settle something in one of the realms - but me and Natasha will try to make today special."

"Natasha is coming?"

"Yes she is. She's bringing gifts from your uncle and his friends. Do you have birthday cakes on Asgard."

Eira shrugged. "I normally have a big dessert. It's cake most of the time, but some people have tarts and pastries. Is there a difference between Midgardian desserts and Asgardian dessert?"

"That depends. Do Asgardians decorate their cakes specifically for the receiver?"

Steve opened the door to the refrigerator, taking out a large, white box. Eira raised an eyebrow - a skill Steve had only seen Loki achieve. Laying the box in front of her, he opened it. Eira leaned her head forward, curious as to the appearance of a Midgardian cake. She saw no sponge, but rather a midnight blue circle, edges embellished with black spheres, the smooth top detailed with white and deep purple dots. "Happy Birthday, Eira!" was scribed at its center.

"That's not a circle," Eira confidently stated.

"The dark blue stuff is frosting, the cake is underneath it. It's a chocolate cake with vanilla frosting and a raspberry jam between the layers. I told the bakers to not make it too sweet, since I thought you may not like it."

"Humans put frosting on the sides?"

"Cake decorating is a mixture of baking and art. Natasha showed me pictures of modern cakes; definitely an improvement of desserts from my time. We'll have this after dinner."

Steve placed the lid back onto the box, lifting and returning it to the refrigerator. A beep from Steve's phone distracted Eira. Pulling the phone toward her, she tilted her head to see the text. The header text read "Natasha".

_I get that Eira is a princess, but this is a bit too fucking much. All the presents are in my trunk. Can you come down and help me carry them up?_

"Natasha swears like Daddy," Eira said and giggled at the same time.

Steve took the phone and held it close to his face, reading the text with squinted eyes. "Well maybe your strength will come in use today. Want to come with me?"

When Steve looked up from his phone, Eira was putting on her tennis shoes. He laughed as he grabbed his denim jacket. He walked up to her and handed her a sweatshirt. Putting on his boots, he heard the excited footsteps head toward the door.

Natasha sighed as she exited her car. When Thor arrived at her apartment a day ago, she was not prepared for the god carrying twelve presents in his arms with a comically large smile. Originally planning to leave the gifts unwrapped, she noted the jewel embellishments and decided that unchecked objects were not meant to loosely stay in the back of her car as she drove. Yesterday she wrapped the presents from Eira's family and the graphic novel she bought the day before.

Striding toward her trunk, she smiled as she saw Eira running to her, Steve jogging from behind.

"Natasha!" she said when she maintained a close distance to the car. "I didn't think I would see you today!"

"I don't usually separate birthdays. When I learned yours was coming up, I couldn't resist the idea of a party."

"There is no party," retorted Steve, finally joining them.

"Well the three of us can have some fun. Back up, Eira. All your presents are in here. Now on Earth, we wrap presents in special paper. It's a form of surprise for the gift-receiver."

Natasha opened the trunk, the green and purple boxes revealed to Eira.

"Are those from my family and you?" she asked.

"Yes, even one gift from…" Natasha paused. "Including a gift from your father."

Eira simulated indignation. "Really? Does that mean he's okay?"

"I guess so. Thor said it appeared in his room two days ago. It included a note from him too."

The seven-year-old jumped in suspense. "I'll help you take these in."

As Eira diverted her attention to finding the most effective method of carrying her present, Natasha glanced at Steve, shrugging. The soldier put his hands on his hips and sighed.

 _Loki is safe,_ he thought. _That's reassuring for Eira, but what is his plan?_

* * *

A replica of a traditional Asgardian horn, embezzled with versadecent jewels, laid on a pedestal, currently standing on Eira's desk. Several minutes were passed by Eira tilting her head, deciding if it was best placed on her desk or somewhere else. Perhaps the horn would look more proper on one of the shelves on her bookshelf, or some place in her room at Natasha's apartment. She considered experimenting with the placement of all her gifts. The seidr instruction book - curiosity of Thor, provided by Frigga before her death - was secured on her bookshelf. A miniature model of Sleipnir, her grandfather's eight-legged horse and a picture of three-year-old Eira and Loki needed the appropriate setting. The latter was gifted by her father and included a heartfelt note, similar to the one she found in the morning, but much more secretive. A frame was also provided; its deep, shadowy wood expertly carved into swirls.

Green swirls formed by the door, which Eira responded by straightening her form in anticipation. Black, wavy hair was developed first, followed by closed eyes, feeling the seidr activate his transportation. The typical olive royal garment, accessorized with gold and ebony, soon appeared. Once the boots assembled and touched the floor, Loki opened his eyes.

"Happy birthday, my little one."

"Daddy!" said Eira as she jumped off her bed and went into her father's open arms. "I got your gift! Thank you so much!"

"Oh, Eira. That was just the beginning. I have something much better."

Eira let go of her father, a smile still maintained. "What is it?"

Loki held out his hand, a book appearing from the mythical smoke. _Tales for Children_ written in metallic yellow on the cover.

"Your mother found this book for you. She read it while she carried you, and I began reading it to you when you were just a baby. You both had the same favorite story: _Sigurd and the Dragon_. I realize that these stories were written for children younger than you, they meant to be read by parents to speak to their children. Your literary skills are advanced enough to comprehend the stories. I probably have not read all of them to you, so enjoy the unfamiliar stories."

Eira grabbed the book, rubbing the brown cover, memories of her father reading it to her replaying in her mind.

"I didn't know Mummy got this book for me."

"She found it in the library before you were born. Did I ever tell you that your mother's was the day after mine?"

"Wait, all of our birthdays follow each other? That's neat."

"It is. I think she genuinely relished the stories, even at her adult age. Sometimes, when I read them to you, I was enthralled by its plot."

"Am I too old for you to read it to me?"

"Eira, it is your birthday. Anything you wish, I shall grant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing but respect for my president:  
> 
> 
> Also feel free to comment below. I am happy to read suggestions and critiques.


	10. Cool Breeze of Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki stans are gonna thrive in 2021.
> 
> On a side note, some chapters may fluctuate on whether the character most focused on is Eira or Loki. Some will extensively detail Eira's time on Earth, or could focus on both of them. As Eira is growing, her character is developing so she will be featured more throughout the story. Don't worry, as future chapters will feature more of Loki. Since this particular movie does not mention Loki, he was not in a much. He is the main character of the story, so I will maintain displaying his importance.

Flying forms of transportation were recognizable to Eira through books and ships located in the docks of Asgard. Her father mentioned traveling on many planes during his recent trip to Midgard, and Natasha reassured her that it was the safest method of conveyance. 

Eira prepared herself for the plane ride at the SHIELD base as the Russian gathered the necessary materials for battle. Unable to focus on the contents of her book, she remembered the appearance of airplanes from the images she was shown. It was similar to a car, she recollected, but larger and more spacious. Planes were much faster than land vehicles, as she was told that she would arrive in Missouri in just under an hour and stay at the Barton’s farm for the night. 

“Clint is outside with the plane,” Natasha exited her office, clothed in a black bodysuit, the belt and cuffs of her sleeves equipped with bullets and electric shooters. “I’ll take you out there before I leave with Steve. Are you feeling alright?”

“I think I’m okay,” responded Eira, putting her book in her book bag. “Daddy used to go on missions and my grandmother would watch me, so I’m used to it. I’m excited to go on a plane, though. I want to know what it’s like.”

“Then this won’t be difficult,” Natasha said as she nodded, inwardly wondering how Eira was scared of social interactions but not heights or unfamiliar transportation. “Let’s go.”

Eira lifted the bulky backpack — containing clothes, books, and writing materials — over her shoulders and followed Natasha, jade eyes eager to witness an airplane. The roaring spin of a large fan transmitted through the outside of the building, causing Eira to jump in surprise, though the feeling was replaced with curiosity. She ran ahead of Natasha, backpack rhythmically hitting her back. 

The wall of the building no longer in sight, Eira stopped her movements, slightly sliding as she stared at the back of the plane. The slowing speed of the fan, the titanium luster of the wings, and the diminishing fire of the engine absorbed all of her attention. Natasha caught up to Eira and scanned her face, smirking at the speculative irises of the child. 

A hatch opened, revealing Clint inside when its level was low enough. The archer walked down the steps as he waved his hand. 

“I haven’t had any missions, and yet this is the most I’ve used my plane,” quipped Clint as he approached Natasha. He glanced at Eira, who gave no greeting nor a signal of recognition. “She must really be fascinated with planes. Does she even know that I’m here?”

“I can hear you,” Eira said nonchalantly. “I know how to multitask.”

Clint eyed Natasha, curious as to how a seven-year-old apprehended the word “multitask” and her sudden brassy attitude. Natasha sighed, looking down at Eira.

“Eira, why don’t you go on? Find someplace comfortable to sit; I need to talk to Clint.”

“Alright,” she acceded simply, jogging to the stair and climbing up without the assistance of the rail.

“I thought she would be more apprehensive,” commented Clint, glimpsing at Eira before she disappeared into the jet, then turning to face Natasha. “Are you ready to obey the Captain?”

“I’ll follow his orders at the beginning, but Fury has assigned me to receive some intel. Roger doesn’t know, but that’s spy work.”

Clint laughed. “You are pretty good at intel. Have fun on the ship, I’ll make sure Eira is safe. Does she have all her stuff.”

“She packed a set of pajamas and clothes for tomorrow. She has a book and her favorite stuffed animal.”

The archer raised an eyebrow. “A tough cookie like her has a stuffed animal?”

“The toy’s name is Hait. It comforts her, helps her sleep. It might be useful for tonight.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised; I’ve been a dad for nine years. Alright, I better get her to the farm before Laura finishes dinner. Stay safe, Nat!”

“Coming from the guy who gets injured more than me!” was her goodbye.

Eira stood in the open cockpit, intensely observing the light and neon buttons of the control panel. Her finger hovered over a button, not abreast to its purpose, but curious to learn. 

“I’m sorry, Eira, but I got to fly. There’s a comfy seat nearby if you want to sit close to the control panel.”

Eira turned to Clint, lowering her finger and hand. She adjusted the straps of her backpack as she walked toward the cushioned chair. Clint sat in the captain’s chair, hitting the button that closed the hatch before he prepared for take-off. The roars of the engine made him smile, the flicks of the switches satisfying.

“You’re the archer Daddy and Uncle mentioned.”

Clint glimpsed at the girl, her book bag now at her feet, seat belt securely strapped. 

“If the archer they mentioned is nicknamed ‘Hawkeye’, then yes, I am. Hopefully they said good things.”

“Thor said you were a well-rounded fighter with good marksmanship. Daddy said you were a loyal soldier and follower, but I think he didn’t like you much. I don’t know if what he said was true because of his issues.”

He didn’t have many interactions with the God of Thunder. Upon their first meeting at the battle-riden, destructive state of Upper Manhattan, they both shared the same lust for revenge against Loki. Thor had the anger toward his brother for lying about his death and indifference of his plans for genocide, while Clint was perplexed by his will being striped from his body, temporarily converted into a mindless assassian. Remembering the night when he aimed an arrow at Thor, attempting, and failing, to lift a stubborn Mjölnir from its rocky confinement, Clint thought the muscled man was simply crazed, not affected by the manipulations and villainous vexings of his younger brother. 

Loki denatured the morals of the archer and killed hundreds of innocent to empower his already oversized ego, yet for his little girl -- his only biological family, the sole remembrance of Runa -- he obtained an out-of-character compassion. 

“Well,” began his response. “You can form your own opinions. The one thing I’m certain of is that you will have fun with my family. Both Cooper and Lila are excited to show you their Christmas gifts. And my wife, Laura, is a fine cook. She made sure to make plenty for you.”

“That sounds like fun,” said Eira as she kicked her legs, undisturbed by the increasing velocity of the jet and its descent off the ground. “Natasha told me not to practice magic or mention my family and home. I think it would make them uncomfortable.”

“They’re aware of your situation, but if you don’t feel comfortable talking about it then don’t. There is one thing you have to do: my family, no one but Fury and Nat know about that. For their protection, you have to keep it a secret too. Can you do that?”

“Of course I can! I’m good at keeping secrets. You seem nice too, so I don’t want to ruin your safety.”

“Alright then.” 

Clint returned his focus to piloting. He straightened the steer and pressed the appropriate controls. Clouds approached the flying vehicle, the ground level becoming less than microscopic. 

“We’ll be at my place in about forty-five minutes, give or take.”

“Okay.”

Eira unzipped her backpack, searching for her book. Feeling the hardback on her fingers, he pulled the book out of her bag, flipping to the bookmarked page. 

Though the princess wished she was taller -- despite being better than the average of her age group -- she was surprisingly glad that her feet were unable to reach the floor. Surely the nervous tapping of her foot would annoy Clint.

* * *

“Daddy built me this dollhouse himself. He isn’t good at building dolls, though, so he and Mommy had to buy some. I wish you could have seen the tree Daddy chopped down, but it started to turn ugly. What did you get for Christmas?”

“Steve and Natasha gave me somes Legos and puzzles,” answered Eira, her thumb stroking the wooden floor of Lila’s dollhouse, amazed by the craftsmanship curated by a single human. “My family sent me some things to remind me of home. I haven’t met Steve and Natasha’s friends, but some of them sent me gifts. I got dvds for television shows and movies. Have you heard of the _Star Wars_ movies and _Avatar: The Last Airbender_?”

“Cooper and Daddy like the _Star Wars_ movies; I’ve only seen _Episode IV_ , so you should ask Cooper about it. Me and Cooper really like _Avatar_. It has a lot of action, do you like stuff like that?”

“I guess. I like the battle stories my family tells me, so I might like it. How did your Daddy build this?”

“He has a shed where he builds stuff. He usually fixes broken things at the farm. Cooper thinks he also makes stuff for his work. We have tried to sneak inside, but Daddy locks it whenever he is away. He says it’s too dangerous for us to be in there; he doesn’t want us to get hurt by the tools.”

“Oh, I wanted to go in there. I like building stuff.”

“You said you like Legos, so you might like what Cooper got. Want to go see?”

“Yes!” Eira’s head shot up, excited by Lila’s ancipation. 

Lila stood up, running out of her room. Eira followed, her timidness nearly diminished. The room of Cooper was across and about twenty degrees from Lila’s, his door ajar. Eira heard the taps of buttons, though she could not determine the source. Reaching the door, Lila used her head to signal Eira to come closer. The raven-haired girl did, placing her head above the other girl’s to see inside. 

The eldest Barton child laid on his bed, a portable console above his head, the light shining on his forehead as he clicked the buttons, smiling at the contents of the game he was playing. Eira looked down toward Lila, wanting to ask if she could knock on his door.

“Cooper,” spoke Lila, her voice purposely annoying. 

Never mind was the answer to Eira’s question. 

“What is it, Lila?” said Cooper after he sighed, placing his console beside him. 

Lila opened the door and ran in. Eira stood back, glancing between the Barton siblings. Skeptical of causing Cooper trouble -- Lady Saga taught her to act courteously whenever she presumed the position of a guest -- Eira almost returned to Lila’s room, but upon observing the calming expression of Cooper when he noticed her, she walked into his room. 

“Eira wanted to see your Lego Millenium Falcon,” Lila answered. 

Cooper turned to Eira, his right eyebrow raised. “Really? You like _Star Wars_?”

Eira looked down at the carpeted floor, twiddling her thumbs behind her back. “I like Legos, and I’m interested in what you’re building. You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s alright.”

Cooper lifted himself off his bed, moving toward his bookshelf where a fragmentary ship sat. He put its box on the ground and took the incomplete structure in his arms. 

“I’ve been building this since the day after Christmas. It’s over seven thousand pieces. I don’t even think I’m a quarter of the way done. Do you want to help me build it?”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Of course I am. You seem to like things like this, and it will help me build this faster.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Lila asked precipitously, stomping her foot in emphasis. 

“Bring up the laptop and watch one of your shows. Give me and Eira some background noise.”

Lila sighed. “Fine.”

Eira giggled at the theatrics of her friend. She diverted her focus to the instruction booklet while her ears sensed the purposefully heavy footsteps of Lila. 

“Sorry about my sister,” said Cooper. “She’s a bit dramatic.”

“I think everyone is dramatic in their own way,” Eira responded. “What part were you on?”

“I think I’m on the fourth bag. Let’s start!”

Lila grabbed the laptop from the desk in the living room, holding it against her chest as she traveled up the stairs. She passed her mother who was watching Eira and Cooper build a lego set. Her maternal hands held a mug, her fingers unfazed as her daughter ran past her. 

“I got it Cooper!” yelled Lila. “I'm gonna play something you don’t like!”

Laura hid her laugh, not wanting to interrupt the banter between her children. Eira giggled, making Laura smile. 

Shaking her head while maintaining her grin, Laura went down the stairs and walked to the kitchen, witnessing her husband reading a newspaper by the stove.

“It’s nice seeing the kids having so much fun,” she said. “We agreed to not have any guests here -- well, except Nat -- but I like the kids playing with someone their age.”

“Eira’s a good kid,” spoke Clint, setting the newspaper down on the table. “Very respectful towards others. Very shy, but kind.”

“When you described your visit with her and Nat a few weeks ago, I thought she would cry the moment she stepped her foot in our house. She had trouble talking to me at first, but she warms up quickly. I like her, and, more importantly, so do the kids.”

“I think Cooper and Lila are glad to have someone their age visit the farm. She agreed not to show her powers around them, since she knows it could be dangerous.”

Laura sighed from her thoughts, using two of her fingers to grab a loose strand of her hair and putting it behind her ear. 

“Clint, I know you’re not the type of man who considers a group of people as the same, but I was worried that after everything you went through with Loki, you wouldn’t want anything to do with his daughter.”

“It’s not her fault that she is related to him. She’s just a child, and every child deserves the best. She lost her mother when she was only an infant and she loves Loki more than anything, and no one knows where he is. Her family is complicated, but it shouldn’t affect her wellbeing.”

“I’ve always loved how caring you are, even to people you don’t know.”

The chair scraped against the tiled floor as Laura moved it closer to her husband. She put her hand on his shoulder, kissing him on the lips. His eyes closed in response, his arm wrapping around her neck. The kiss was terminated by Laura as she removed her lips from Clint’s.

“I’m feeling very aroused right now, but I think we should wait until tomorrow night. It’s probably best -- and safer -- if we do it when Eira has left, the kids are asleep, and there isn’t a beef stew being prepared in the oven. Hopefully we feel the same as we do now.”

“Let’s hope so,” Clint said with a smile.

* * *

Sleeping in her own bed or resting beside her father were the methods of slumber for Eira. As a baby she slept in a crib located next to Loki’s bed, which continued as the cradle was replaced with a toddler fit for a princess. Occurrences of nightmares were treated with spending the remaining night cuddled on his chest or curled by his hip. When their room became just hers she fell asleep by herself or with bedtime stories from Thor, Frigga, or an apparition of Loki. Whatever method transpired, she was alone once she awoke. Hati in her grasp was the single tradition preserved. 

Preparation for sleep on Midgard did not differ much: sometimes she aided herself to slumber, or, when the proceeding moments were troublesome, Steve or Natasha stayed by her side until her eyes became heavy. As a deep sleeper, she woke up from the percisting beep of her alarm clock or a gentle shove of her human caretakers. 

The Barton family readied their guest room for her; the pillows plush and the blankets properly washed. Tired from building the Lego ship with Cooper and the delicious, heavy beef stew she had for dinner, she forgot about her typical stubborn desire to remain awake and invited herself into the guest room. She read the second chapter of _A Wrinkle in Time_ before wrapped herself in her father’s blanket -- a slight sense of guilt arising as she discarded the provided sheets -- and fell asleep.

Her deep breaths maintained themselves when Laura slightly opened her door, looking at the girl’s sleeping form between the small sliver from the doorframe and the entrance itself. An unconscious Eira did not notice Laura shutting the door and whispering “she’s asleep” to Clint.

She even failed to detect when Loki appeared behind her. 

Wearing luxurious pajamas, his gaze was immediately cast toward his slumbering daughter. He knelt down, his arms nanometers away from Eira. He rubbed the rambunctious, raven curls sprawled on the pillow, lightly moving in tandem with her breaths. 

He transferred himself to his first days as a father. The loneliness and depression over Runa’s sudden death flowing within him after the bittersweet birth of his daughter. He traversed through the stages of grief by caring for Eira. His soul warmed whenever Eira’s cries diminished after entering his hold, her stress disappearing upon hearing the tranquil beat of his heart. The happiest moments were when his finger traveled over her infant head, somehow covered in his ebony locks combined with the texture of Runa’s. 

Loki wished those days would return. The days where Eira was dependent on him, the days she was only pleased if he was nearby, the days where it was just them together. 

Loki spent his day forming a peace treaty with fractured citizens of Svartalfheim, wanting forgiveness for the acts of Malekith the Accursed. If not disguised as Odin, Loki would have slit their necks the moment they made eye contact, smiling with the utmost delight as he observed their black blood abandoning their mimble bodies. With the members closest to Malekith, he would have extended their pain and the time they felt it. Maybe he would stab their eyes, slit their arms and legs, or beat them with his own fists. Loki enjoyed the screams and cries of his enemies, watching him beg for life that would be terminated in mere moments. He would savour it more with the Dökkálfar, the killers of his mother. His reasons for hunting Malekith and his lackey followers were to become closer to his daughter and in revenge for Frigga’s untimely end. But as the Warrior’s Three stood behind him, he realized breaking character would ruin his power as King. Even pretending to be Frigga’s life, he could only politely discuss matters of politics and not committing murder. 

The hours he initially hypothesised the meeting would last turned into the majority of his day. He wished to visit Eira before her body gave in for the night. After it ended more dreadfully than it started, Loki ate a five-thousand calorie meal before retreating to his chambers. 

Loki advocated himself to see Eira whenever he could, both to embrace her and secure her safety on Earth. Eira told him about her planned visits to the Barton farm a week ago. He remembered Clint mentioning his son and daughter when he was under control of the Mind Stone; he remembered the shortest feeling of guilt when he recognized that the archer was also a father with a daughter four months older than his own. 

He hated the thought of his special little one playing with feeble Midgardian children. But upon hearing word that Eira enjoyed the presence of the Barton children, his stance softened, but his stubborn hubris was not deterred. 

It eventually realized the playtime between his daughter and the children of Clint were necessary for her mental health. She was the youngest of the noble children, separated by Volstagg’s twins by three years. She unhealthily clung to him and still wanted to continue that behavior. 

Even if she preferred him over anyone else, she was expected to interact with others her age. Cooper and Lila Barton supplied that necessity. 

Although he wished for his daughter to wake and discuss her day with him, he realized that she needed sleep. His seven years of paternal experience made him recognize the essentials of a child’s wellbeing, which included sleep. 

Loki was exhausted from his boring meeting, but he could spend several moments watching the peaceful state of his daughter. Maybe he could leave her a letter or gift.

* * *

Natasha had an impressive skill in hiding her troubled emotions by utilizing a serious, occasionally jestful, expression, Eira noticed. Loki used the same ability whenever he secrets to hide from his family and friends and began teaching it to his daughter when she was only five. He recreated situations to aid her in recognizing patterns of inconsistency and the briefest changes in reactions, implusies, and emotions during the moments she visited him in his cell and later their secret meetings. The Skriver genes in Eira -- curiosity of her mother -- helped her learn briskly, though she was not prepared to practice it in the presence of those with the same, albeit advanced, skill. 

After Natasha finished from her mission near the coast of India with Rogers and the STRIKE team, she took a SHIELD jet to return Eira to her apartment with her stoic, yet relaxed, demeanor. The jet's fans slowed and the fire from its engine quelled as Eira ran out of the Barton farm, book bag bouncing against her back. Clint and Laura also went outside though they stood back by the doorframe.

The Russian walked halfway down the stairs of the plane, waving her thanks at Clint and Laura before greeting Eira. Her smile was warm from a distance, but as Eira moved closer she saw the emotional stress at the edge of the left side of her lip. Moving up her face, she noted the guilt in her eyes. The remorse was directed to -- what Eira presumed based on Natasha’s location the previous night -- Steve.

Eira asked about Natasha’s poignant state, although the question itself was rather simple, when they entered the plane, which she responded with “I’m fine”.

She chose not to pester and opted silence as the response.

The ride to the capital would have been quiet if Natasha did not ask about Eira’s first visit to the Barton residence. Eira answered, briefly describing how Lila demonstrated her Christmas gifts, building a Lego set with Cooper, and the delicious beef stew cooked by Laura.

The jet landed on the SHIELD base, and the guilt left Natasha’s face.

“I’ll give Fury a report on the mission when we’re back at my place,” said Natasha, lowering the stairs of the jet as she stood from her chair. “Let’s get out of here. I have a treat for you.”

Eira widened her eyes as she lifted herself from the chair. She was curious to Natasha’s surprise for her but also glad that she would not stay at the base for long. Impatience was a genetic trait in her family; she remembered her father and uncle describing their attempts at not rolling their eyes and fighting against the urge to tap their feet. 

Even if she did wait for Natasha to finish her briefing with Fury, reading the letter written by her father as she was surrounded by observant and apprehensive government workers and the forever-watching security cameras was dangerously unwise. 

The Barton farm reminded Eira of the Asgardian palace. Its spacious and multi-level design brought some sentiment (as much sentiment a seven-year-old could have.) Eira was growing accustomed to the apartments of Natasha and Steve, but interrupting the pattern by one-night visit to Clint and his family recreated the pettiness within Eira that was well associated with royalty. Therefore her enthusiasm of arriving home was diminished by Natasha opening the door to her compact apartment. 

Natasha threw her keys, without looking, onto the kitchen countertop. Eira stood by the entrance, removing her shoes and placing them by the mat. Her head tilted in search of the surprise, squinting when she could not find any unusual object or person. Averting her gaze to Natasha, Eira noticed that her eyes were also locating something. 

She decided to let Natasha look for the surprise and walked into her room, setting her backpack against her desk. The zip swiftly opened with the stride of her hand, which then removed the stationary objects, placing them on the table, and her clothes, folded neatly and put into the appropriate shelves of her dresser. 

A thick-rimmed book was lightly placed on a coffee table, followed by a slightly thinner book. Eira heard the two books settle against the table from her room, witnessing the third when she exited and moved toward Natasha.

Books? That was the surprise? Eira had plenty of books, as evidenced by her bookshelf, filled with stories of Asgardian and Midgardian origin. Although she enjoyed reading, she knew that after her birthday and the holidays that her probability of receiving new tales was slim. 

Upon moving closer to the table, she saw the titles of the books: _Mathematics: K-2_ , _Basics of English Grammar, Civics for First Graders,_ and the multitude of science books lacking a sharing subject.

“You haven’t had a formal learning experience since you got here,” said Natasha, setting down the final text as she looked down at Eira. “It’s been a couple of weeks, and since you are seven, we can’t stop your education. I don’t know how long you’ll be living on Earth, but I assume it may be a couple of years, so you will definitely need to be prepared to go to school.”

“You want me… you want me to go to school? W-with other kids?”

Eira’s right hand tightened while her left gripped a chair beside her. 

She began to overcome her social anxiety by playing with Lila and Cooper and spending a night at their farm, but suddenly increasing from two to twenty, thirty, perhaps more? It was too much. She wasn’t ready. She needed a lot more time. So much more time- 

The stile was forcibly, though accidently, removed from the chair. Eira, abstracted from her panicked thoughts, jumped back, letting go of the piece of wood. 

“Eira!” Natasha yelled with concern.

She knelt down, quickly, yet gently, grabbing Eira’s wrist to inspect her hand for injury. The palm was a dark pink, stressed from the hold of its owner. No visible splinters or bleedings. 

“Nat, I’m sorry,” Eira spoke between panicked, uneven breaths. “I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t know how much of my strength I was using. I- I…”

“Eira, you’re okay,” Natasha pulled the distressed girl into a hug. “You’re scared, and I understand. Steve understands too. We’ll help you get through it. It’s alright.”

Removing Eira’s back from her hold, Natasha stood up, glancing at the chair, its cross rail awkwardly diagonal and the sharp disconnect of the stile. 

“That chair was the cheapest thing here,” she said. “I won’t miss it. Let’s buy one tomorrow.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? No. I was just worried how hurt you were. Your uncle would threaten me, and your father would come out of his disappearance.”

“But it's not your fault that I broke it. My strength is growing too quickly. I think it’s because I’m a half-breed.”

“Then we will also work on that before you go to school. I’ll ask your uncle about it. Now, do you want to skim these books and pretend they’re interesting?”

Her shoulders relaxing, Eira glanced at the books and then at Natasha’s kindly cunning smile. She nodded with her father’s grin.

* * *

Six and a half hours of sleep was not enough, Natasha realized as she woke up. The statement wasn’t entirely true, as she was awoken by a call of Fury’s critical state, watched as his heart gave up its will to live, and struggled to fall asleep, her thoughts occupied by the description of her mentor’s brutal death. She felt her body embrace sleep moments before the beeping of her alarm clock. 

The snooze button was an excuse to act snobbishly lazily, which Natasha would never succumb to. But those ear-piercing beeps in tandem with the weight of her exhausted eyes almost made her give in. Almost.

The orange hue of the sky brightened the unlight living room. A laptop sat on the coffee table, uncharged but still operational. It almost appeared like the laptop was destined to be the first object used by Natasha for the day, as the dim rays from the rising sun angled themselves away from the computer. 

Steve was lying a few hours ago, she knew the moment the words left his mouth. His tone hinted at a clueless knowledge for the cause of Fury’s death, and her eyes kept diverting to a thin object in his jacket pocket. She couldn’t determine the truth by recalling his lies, she had to conduct extensive, swift research.

Hacking into security cameras for an apartment complex was child’s play for Natasha, or so she thought. A few lines of typing should have successful for her to see Steve’s place the night of Fury’s murder, but she was meant with resistance. Typing further, along with the frustrated tapping of her fingers against the keys, she wondered about the unusual level of security. Sure, Captain America himself lived there, but she knew he didn’t participate in any dangerous activities, and he had the protection of Agent 13.

Finally getting access to the current footage, Natasha sighed in satisfaction as she scanned for the date from the night before. She paused on a frame of Steve talking to Fury, the latter bloody but determined. 

Fury was speaking normally, but the blurry contents of his phone. She pressed the spacebar and enhanced the frame, adjusting the texture so she could see the text.

“SHIELD compromised,” the text ultimately read. 

“Shit,” was all Natasha said as she continued watching.

Steve asked more questions, only to be meant with vague answers from Fury. As the SHIELD director adjusted his position on his seat, three rapid bullets entered through the wall and went in and out his chest.

Steve knelt to check the severity of his injuries. Fury’s eyes were stubbornly opened as his shaky hand gave Steve a thumbdrive. The Captain accepted it, Fury fainting seconds afterward. His focus kept changing to helping Fury to finding the shooter, the addition of his neighbor, whom he was unaware that her true career was as a SHIELD agent. 

His head turned toward a window and he stood up running moments after. Natasha changed the camera perspective multiple times, following every step Steve took as he went after the shooter. She almost made a comment to herself about the destruction of property by his shield, but she was distracted when she saw the shooter.

The Winter Soldier. 

This was deeper than she initially thought, even with the knowledge of corruption within SHIELD. 

“Why am I up this early?” said an exhausted voice.

Natasha turned off her laptop and put the screen down. 

Eira walked into the hall with a yawn, her hair uneven and in need of brushing. 

“Oh, hi Natasha.”

“Good morning, Eira. You are up earlier than your alarm. Is everything alright?”

“I think so? I felt something strange this morning, like something was slightly off. Did you leave last night? In my dreams I heard heavy footsteps.”

 _Never heard of a seven-year-old sensing negative emotions while they sleep_ , Natasha thought. _But I guess magic changes all of that._

“I had to go to the hospital,” she lied. “A friend of mine was hurt. Don’t worry, you weren’t alone. You know that neighbor of ours that is secretly a SHIELD agent, he was alerted and made sure you were safe.”

“Are you going to visit your friend today?”

“Maybe. I have some work to do. Wait...”

A flash drive had the same shape as the object in Steve’s pocket. He was at SHIELD, so she couldn’t go after him. She might be attacked and she had to take Eira with her; she couldn’t leave a child alone when the organization tasked with caring for her was compromised. 

But as she walked away from Steve at the hospital, she took one last look at him as he talked to a hospital janitor or some kind of nonmedical worker. 

_He doesn’t have the flash drive._

“Natasha? What happened? Is it some Avengers stuff?”

“Um, yes. Now, how quickly can you get changed?”

“Pretty quick if I can find what I want to wear.”

“Alright. Go change. I’ll make breakfast and then we’ll go to the hospital. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

Eira raised her eyebrow and maintained it as she walked to her bedroom.

Natasha sighed as she went toward the kitchen, grabbing two bowls from her cabinet.

 _Shit is about to hit the fan_ , she thought.

* * *

Eira played with the zipper of her moss linen jacket, not interested in the piece of gum Natasha gave her before leaving the room. She knew something dangerous happened based off of the spy’s behavior in the morning, and she formed her own situation from the comments Natasha made during breakfast. 

Bragi, her secondary tutor on Asgard, briefly mentioned the terms “compromised” and “corrupt” and gave simple definitions during a government and civics lesson, stating that she would learn more about those concepts later in her education. The terms were not positive, she deduced from the meanings and tone of his voice. 

SHIELD was compromised, but to which extent? Stories with themes of corruption all ended in triumph, with the venal individuals were small in number overthrown and replaced with responsible people. Loki finished telling those tales with a smile, his eyes kind as he tucked Eira into bed, but perhaps his warmth hid the truth.

All she knew was that she would find the severity of the accuracy today. 

Natasha entered the room again, albeit unwillingly. A man with a grey cap pushed her against the wall. Eira almost created a blunt object with her magic to protect Natasha, but her hand relaxed when she recognized the voice as Steve’s.

His tone was fiercely anxious as he pushed Natasha to answer his suspicions. So he also was aware of the possible corruption. 

Then she began talking about some assassin named “the Winter Soldier” who scarred her and was untraceable. Apparently he killed Fury. So was Fury the one Natasha visited last night? Maybe. Eira couldn’t ponder in her thoughts longer, as their conversation ended.

“Well, let’s find out what the ghost wants,” spoke Steve, removing his hands from the wall as his stance mellowed. 

“We’ll have to take her with us,” Natasha said, her head gesturing to Eira. “She won’t be safe alone.”

Steve turned around, surprised to see the girl simply sitting in a chair who heard every word.

“You’re bad at noticing people,” said Eira with a cheeky grin.

“Eira, can your magic disguise me and Steve?” asked Natasha.

The perkiness was replaced with embarrassment. 

“I can change my own appearance, but I’m not powerful enough to change yours. I’m sorry. I am still working on it.”

“It’s alright, Eira,” Steve reassured. “Natasha and I can handle ourselves. She is a spy after all. Can probably give me some tips.”

“That I can. Eira, come with us. When we get outside, I’ll take you to a corner where you can disguise yourself. Make yourself look like our daughter.”

“Wait, what?” Steve looked to Natasha.

“We’re gonna go to the mall and pretend we’re a couple. I have civilian clothes in my car. It will be fine, unless you have any objections?”

Steve glanced to the floor in an awkward response. Eira looked to Natasha and nodded before smiling at the Captain’s unease.

* * *

Eira awoke in a car, her head facing the greying sky. She remembered holding Steve’s hand as Natasha guided them away from Rumlow and his STRIKE team, breaking the hold when Steve had to steal a car. They needed to go to New Jersey and would certainly be detected if they used Natasha’s car. She fell asleep after an hour in the “rented” car.

She made her awakened presence known by asking the adults how close they were to New Jersey. Natasha turned in her seat with a smile as Steve answered by stating that she awoke at the right time, as they were thirty minutes away from their destination. 

The streets and houses of New Jersey were similar, the only differences were the materials and colors of the houses. She saw businesses and government buildings, but nothing as extravagant as the buildings in Washington D.C.

Soon the landscape was swallowed by grass, no structures in sight until a gate entered Eira’s view. It was fenced around several brick buildings, the sign reading “Camp Leigh”.

“This is where I’m from,” Steve said to himself. 

They exited the car and entered the base. The base itself was larger than Eira initially thought. The multiple buildings wide in length and a copious amount of space between them. 

Steve invited her to sit on his shoulders, suggesting that walking around might make her tired and that she could notice something higher. She complied. 

For the next hour she gazed at every structure for any irregularities, disappointed when she noticed nothing. Steve and Natasha were looking for a signal but also found nothing. 

Growing bored, she rested her head against his and stared blankly into the landscape.

“How dangerous will this get, Steve?” she asked.

“It’s not as safe as I would like, but the level might rise. Why did we bring you into this?”

“You and Natasha said you would protect me, and that’s what you are doing. If it gets too dangerous, then Heimdall can send me back to Asgard.”

“That’s a good deal. I want to keep you safe, and being with us right now might not be the right direction.”

“Then it’s a plan.” Eira lifted her head and pointed to the sky. “You hear that Heimdall? You better send me back home the moment it gets rough!”

Steve laughed along with her, and she could hear Natasha giggle from far away. His laughter ended abruptly as he looked ahead, an unfamiliar building initiating into his view. 

“Natasha! Look ahead! Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within five hundred yards of the barracks. That building is in the wrong place. Eira, you might want to get down.”

Steve knelt to allow Eira to get off his shoulders. She followed him to the unregulated building. It was locked, but the shield gave them entry. 

Darkly lit and dusty, the inside was uninhabited and eldery, the furniture decades old and largely unused in the modern world. Three silhouettes were placed in the center of a wall. Eira recognized two of the people inside: Stark’s father and the woman Steve pretended he was not a former lover of his (she knew he had some hidden feelings for Natasha.) 

A crooked bookshelf stood by itself, Eira noticed, and so did Steve, as he moved it to reveal a secret room. 

Entering the room, Eira assumed it was the source of the signal, but Natasha’s comment of the outdated technology proved her wrong, until she approached a big computer and put in the flash drive, making a virtual voice echo through the room. 

The green-pixelated avatar was plump with large-rounded glasses and a receding hairline. It spoke Steve’s name and date of birth before mentioning details about Natasha. 

His gaze was temporarily on Eira, and she stared at it for an answer. The avatar diverted itself, meaning that the system was unaware of Eira’s origin and existence. As it talked about Hydra, she realized that the program only had knowledge of human figures and situations on Earth. They planned political and influential events, but no mention was made toward the events caused by her uncle and father. 

The doors and windows shut around them, a red light in tandem with a loud beep tracing every inch of the room. 

“Steve, we got a bogey,” said a panicked Natasha. “Short range ballistic. 30 seconds top.”

A bogey? Eira was not familiar with that object, but from what she gathered from Natasha’s tone, it was probably a highly-destructive weapon. The building was eighty years old, so the chance of injury was high.

Eira did not have the time to see the damage. A rainbow light surrounded her, and soon she was travelling upward. The lights became dimmer as she ascended; she found comfort in the starry sky behind the bars of color. Her body stopped moving, making her fail on an unknown surface. The brightence heightened and then promptly darkened.

Blinking her eyes, she saw Heimdall placing down his sword. Uncharacteristically, he had a smile.

“Welcome back, princess.”

Eira stood up, adjusting the position of her pants and wiping the nonexistent dust off her jacket. Her back went straight as she giggled.

“I thought I was supposed to go to Earth for my protection.”

Heimdall laughed back. “So did I. Let me get your grandfather. He’ll guide you back to your chambers.”

Her smile grew as Heimdall signalled for the All-Father, excited to see Loki in their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment or suggestion for the story. Maybe some feedback or grammar corrections.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally posted a week after posting the last chapter! 
> 
> I finally posted a new chapter during the middle of the day instead of late at night.
> 
> It took me too many years to learn time management.

The velvet sheet and featherly pillow comforted his body as he slept in his new chambers. In the void he slumbered on the average beds, missing the space and solace of his former chambers while watching Eira rest in the bed beside him. Then came the flat terrain of his prison cell, the lack of a mattress creating distress in his spine. The kindness of his mother arrived and with it furniture, but his royal instincts were stubborn. Loki went on missions where he laid to rest against the uneven dirt, expecting his current situation, but he was eager to return to his home.

Disguised as Odin he retired to his adoptive father's chambers for the night. Loki remembered the first night, laying his body against the bed and awaiting for the mattress to swallow him whole. If he was not planning to visit his daughter the next morning, perhaps he would have slept for an entire day.

A month and a half was enough time to adjust to his new sleeping arrangement, yet his hands clenched the fabric whenever he awoke, as if wanting one last embrace of the feathery atmosphere if, perhaps, it were his last time to do so.

The behavior repeated a few moments after midnight, the signalling of Heimdall ringing through his ears.

The minutes it took to walk to the bridge prepared Loki to act as the All-Father; he would speak with respect and soft confidence instead of retaining his angry annoyance. Still worried about departing from the character, his inner expression softened upon seeing Eira talking to Heimdall.

"I never realized that there was a time difference between here and Midgard," her inquisitive voice became clearer with each step.

"The difference is rather unspoken of," he interrupted. "Only those who travel the realms feel the effects of time."

"Your majesty," Heimdall's strong tone echoed through the Bifröst. "I thought you would want to escort your granddaughter. The situation on Midgard is rather tense."

Odin nodded, holding out his hand for Eira to take.

"Thank you, Heimdall," he said as Eira grabbed his hand.

He guided her to the bridge, trying his best to not grasp her hand too tightly. Eira looked up at the fake form of her grandfather, seeing his glance between her and the Bifröst behind them.

Halfway through the bridge he changed into his original form, immediately kneeling down and pulling his daughter into a hug.

"Eira," he whispered. "I'm so happy you're safe. When I saw you at the Bifröst, I thought… I thought you were hurt."

"I'm fine, Daddy," Eira responded with confusion, perhaps surprised by the sudden embrace. "I don't have any scratches or injuries. Daddy, are you okay? This is a long hug."

"I am alright, Eira," he pulled away, though his knees were still bent and his hand cupped her cheek. "I was worried. We sent you to Midgard for your safety, and seeing you without knowing why you returned, I thought something may have happened. Why did Heimdall send you here? What happened?"

"Well, Steve and Natasha found out that SHIELD is corrupt. This evil group called Hydra was secretly forming for years. It looks pretty bad. Steve and Natasha should know that I'm here. I was with them when I told Heimdall to send me back if it got dangerous."

Hydra. Loki remembered Barton referring to the criminal organization when explaining the origins of Captain America. They discovered the hidden location of the Tesseract - a failure on Odin's part - and planned to utilize its neverending power to win the second World War. The foolish, mortal Red Skull, with all his diabolic passion, could not wield the potential of the Space Stone.

The organization was fickle, Loki first thought after Barton briefed him a year and a half ago. Although high in its soldiers, its leader was the only reason it maintained some fear, perhaps a major contributor in aiding the Axis powers. Despite resenting the soldier and spy for ruining his intention to conquer and rule, Loki knew they would vanquish the terrorists.

"Natasha and Steve are capable of defeating them," he reassured. "Their fighting talent is unprecedented."

Eira looked down at the rainbow bridge, her weight depending on the balls of her feet. "I don't know, Daddy."

"I understand why you are worried," he comforted. Loki looked at the purple sky and the fluctuating brightness of the stars. Probably past her bedtime. "Let's get you to bed. I'll take you to your chambers."

Without looking up, Eira sensed her body being lifted from the bridge, the wool of her father's clothing making contact with her neck. Loki settled her on his hip, her head the same height as his shoulder.

"Daddy!" she complained, exaggerating her frown (Loki hid a giggle upon seeing her expression.) "I'm seven! You don't have to carry me."

"I know, my little one, I know. But you look tired. Just humor me."

"Fine," Eira sighed.

She attempted to prove her father wrong by not laying her head on his shoulder. Succumbing to her fatigued self was more different than expected. It was certainly the time of night where her caretakers would guide her to bed, helping her choose her pajamas or aid her in falling asleep if her mood required such actions. The texture of his shirt appeared smooth, pillow-like; the perfect place to rest her head.

Father and daughter entered the dimly-lit palace. The guards were placed scarcely in the halls, though their pattern effectively protected the residents of the castle while locating possible threats. With his above-Asgardian speed, Loki managed to carry his daughter to her chambers undetected.

Loki settled Eira on her bed, rubbing the top of her head before walking to her drawers.

"Daddy, I'm not a baby," Eira complained with pouting. "I can get my own clothes. You don't have to do everything for me."

"It's the paternal instincts in me, and they will never go away. Even as you grow older."

Loki grabbed an underdress from her drawers. He turned to face Eira, though her head was tilted downward, her expression troubled.

"It's okay to be worried for them," said Loki as he sat next to his daughter. Her head spiked up, startled by the observational skills of her father. "But if you let your worries affect you too much, then you will not get any sleep, and nobody wants that. Nobody wants a grouchy Eira."

"I'm not that grouchy," she responded. "But I am scared. I know I said to stop treating me like a baby, but can you stay with me until I fall asleep? I don't have Hati with me."

"Of course. Anything for you, my little one." Loki glanced at the nightgown, moving his hand so it was in Eira's vision. "I trust that you can put this on yourself."

Eira nodded while removing her jacket. She seized the nightgown and moved off the bed. Loki grabbed the jacket and folded it, repeating the action with each piece of clothing Eira discarded from her body. Placing her clothes on a table, he then diverted his attention to his daughter, now wearing the underdress and untying her braid. Her curls were situated in varying directions, some almost landing on a straight line.

"That unruly mane of yours has existed since the day of your birth," Loki commented. "You were born with a full head of curls. According to the healers, it was unprecedented."

He evened the tangles of her raven locks while guiding her to her bed. She placed herself under the multitude of blankets, laying her head against the pillow, maintaining eye contact with her father.

"You said I got my curly hair from Mummy, right? How did she handle her hair?"

"She complained about it, but she often styled her hair so that it was away from her face. However, the weather and even simple physics caused some issues."

"You're really good at brushing and braiding my hair," she said, a yawn deep interrupting once. "Uncle is also good at braiding. Natasha does a braiding style from Russia, and Steve looks confused looking at a hair tie."

"Braiding is a skill and valuable to many cultures. Do you want to go to the waterfall tomorrow? We have not been there in years. It will probably ease your mind."

"I'd like that, Daddy."

Her voice lazied as she answered Loki. Her eyes closed for seconds at a time before opening, the length between shortening during each occurrence. Young hands grasped the firm fingers of her father, her grip tightening whenever she opened her eyes. She was fighting sleep, Loki realized, but he recognized the heavy fluttering of her eyelids, so slumber would manipulate her body soon. His mouth was closed, choosing silence as her guidance to sleep. A singular finger stroked strands of her hair.

Even breathes departed from her mouth, her hand less curved around his finger, and her head deepened into the softness of her pillow. Loki's position remained: observing and comforting the most perfect being in the universe.

* * *

_The week was a whirlwind. Watching the emotions of the nobles becoming aware of his lover's pregnancy, some cognizant of their unmarried status, and analyzing the best method and opportunity to alert the common folk._

_The mind of Loki was both focused and in a daze._

_His parents gave themselves of informing others about their growing families. They told him to continue his typical royal duties and prepare for fatherhood. He was too young to manage the opinions of the citizens, his mother knew his temper could cause trouble, so she wanted him to maintain his strengths._

_But being aware of the conversations but unaware of the opinions within the whisperings distorted his focus. Loki tried to divert his thoughts into his work and personal life. The thoughts refused to leave, however. His feelings were not discussed with others, an indifferent facade not concerning to others, putting off any reasons to converse about his well being. Runa was already going through rapid changes: a new place to call home, an indefinite time not spent working, the circle of friends composed mostly of nobles. Loki decided that talking with her about his troubles would add to her distress, so he said nothing._

_He couldn't stay in the palace if he wanted to ease his distraint. A mission would temporarily deter his mind and prove ineffective._

_In his childhood, during his most stressful moments, Frigga took him to a cabin by a waterfall. Its location was only known by Asgardian nobelity. The wooden house was settled by the fall of a river. Flowers of diverse colors and structure surrounded the parameter._

_Loki had not traveled to the cabin in hundreds of years. Sometimes his mind distracted himself from boring meetings with visions of the light taps of the water. He considered going back after missions to heal and relax, but the thought felt strange. The spacious cabin and its many luxuries meant to be utilized by a family. He maintained his composure by traveling through the woods on his house, discovering rivers and ponds, perhaps encountering an exotic animal or two._

_He introduced the idea to Runa who was immediately intrigued by the vacation spot. She accepted the offer. They packed a bag of clothes for the night and morning - they planned to go away for just a day - and prepared a horse._

_Minutes before midnight, Loki settled the horse in a stable by the cabin for the night. He laid a bucket of water by the mane's side. The thick, leather fabric of his attire weighed heavy on his depleted body._

_Runa lay on the bed, her body facing the ceiling. Her nightgown was slightly pulled up as she observed her_ _slimly curved stomach. Her thumb stroked the forming bulge, curious as to its sudden appearance._

_She heard the footsteps of her lover and their sudden stop when he reached the doorway. A hand against the doorway, Loki stared at the position of Runa before his gaze focused on her roundish stomach._

" _During our ride to the cabin I noticed that my stomach appeared puffy," she spoke. "I realize that I'm just a few days away from being three months pregnant, but I didn't think it would happen this soon. Maybe it is because we only found out about the baby last week. It is too soon to start showing though?"_

" _That I do not know," answered Loki, approaching the bed and settling next to Runa. "It feels more real now, however. Undeniable proof that the baby is here."_

" _The healers said they can determine the gender next month. The baby also may be kicking soon."_

" _Really?"_

_Loki's hand twitched from its place on his hip. Her sight fell toward the hand, seemingly eager to hold something._

" _You can place your hand on my stomach. You are the father, after all."_

_His arm leaned forward toward her belly. His fingers stretched as they cupped her stomach, his skin touching the texture of her ripening stomach. It eventually settled, his arm relaxing. Runa leaned her head against his chest, the top of her head below his chin._

" _I feel so helpless," Loki said. "I impregnated you. I forgot to use protection. I did this, and yet the burden of carrying our child has fallen onto you. All I can do is watch."_

" _I gave consent to the sex, Loki. I agreed to carry our child and raise it with you. You do not have to feel useless. For the past week you have been making my transition to living in your chambers uncomplicated. You introduced me to your friends, gave me hope that I can have a family again. Loki, you are the best being I have ever met. You proved that I can love again. Although the news itself was sudden, the baby might be the best thing to ever happen to me. Thank you for that, my love."_

_Loki kissed her forehead. "My darling, you have also done so much for me. This relationship is the deepest love I have felt. Runa, you have granted me indescribable happiness. I don't care that we are much younger than most expecting parents, I will continue to love you and our child. I am glad that you will have a true family."_

_Loki felt Runa smile. She placed her hand above his, still located on her growing stomach._

" _You can help me, Loki. I will start throwing up in the morning. You can rub my back and move my hair back. Provide me comfort and assist me in preparing for the baby. That is what you can do."_

" _I'll do whatever I can for you and the baby."_

* * *

The pants of her jumpsuit were rolled up to her knees. Eira put both of her braids behind her back, not wanting her hair to make contact with the stream of the river. She sat on the edge of the grassy plains, placing her feet in the water. Her feet relaxed in their bath, kicking without feeling the force of the air.

"Enjoying the river, are we?"

The braids bounced as Eira turned her head toward her father. Loki wore a more relaxed gardment: a polyester cyan undershirt with a midnight overshirt and pants. His hair lacked the control of gel, his waves in full effect. No boots were on his feet; he relished the feeling of the emollient grass, not contained in the palace of Asgard.

"Yes, it feels nice," responded Eira, watching Loki adjust the heights of his pants. "This was a good idea, Daddy. I've been very stressed lately."

"Why is that?" concern entered his tone.

His feet entered the water as he put a hand on his daughter's shoulder. Eira sighed and looked down at the stream, moving her legs.

"I think I'll be going to a school in a few months."

Loki hated the thought of his above-perfect daughter interacting with nimble, impotent humans. If she needed to stay in Midgard, then school was an imperative. But his vanity was unyielding, and he reflected it toward Eira, who probably had no comprehension of an ego.

"I realize that you are scared of interacting with other children, but you are such a courageous girl. So many people will aid you in easing your social anxiety. I can comfort you along the way, my little one. I want the best for you. Your uncle, Steve, and Natasha want the best for you."

"It's not just that, Daddy," she sniffled, her shoulders lowering in assertiveness. "I have to blend in, but I don't know if I can do that."

She lifted her hand, rotating it as her fingers twitched. "It's my strength. It's growing too quickly. I broke a chair a few days ago."

His eyes widened. An Asgardian does have a much higher level of strength when compared to most humanoid races, but the resiliency itself does not begin developing until late adolescence. How could a seven-year-old break a piece of furniture?

Then Loki remembered her mixed blood. The Jötnar had the same level of strength as the Aesir, but the durability when the genes intermingled was unidentified. A half-breed of those two races was biologically impossible. The frosty skin of a Jötunn would burn the skin of a lover of another species. But Loki was the only Frost Giant disguised with Asgardian magic, and his daughter was the first, and presumably only, child of both Jötnar and Aesir blood.

There was evidence of a prolonged interaction between the enemy species when Runa carried the half-breed in her belly. Her cause of death was written as blood loss, but hypothermia might have been a contributing factor.

Perhaps Eira's status as a halfling explained her heightened senses when she was a mere infant, or her advanced flexibility. Maybe, when she becomes a woman, her strength will surpass all known races. Could the opposing genes create health issues for her later in life? Loki didn't want to consider that. He already lost the love of his life, he could not lose his daughter as well. He did not want his family to be erased from existence. The mere thought was…

"I'm a monster," Eira sobbed, her hand shaking violently, her head on the verge of twitching. "Half-breeds like me don't exist. What if more things happen? I could hurt someone."

She choked on her cries, her back curling into legs, now removed from the river. Loki quickly lifted her into his hold, placing her on his lap and hugging her tightly.

"Eira, you are not a monster," he comforted, feeling the tears in the corner of his eyes. "You are a special little girl. You are the only being of both Jötunn and Asgardian descent. No one can compare to you. Your strength makes you more unique then you already are. You will be powerful, unstoppable, and respected. I can teach you to control it, and I am sure that your uncle will too."

The princess breathed heavily against his chest, her snot lightly staining his shirt, but Loki did not verbally comment. Some curls freed themselves from her braids, each strand laying in different directions.

Her tears finished falling though her cheeks and skin under the eyes remained red. She attempted to move the strands behind her ear, but her non-sentient curls were stubborn.

"I like my hair," she said after sighing. "But sometimes it can be too much. I know that it's against tradition, but I want to cut my hair like some women on Earth."

"Women on Asgard do cut their hair."

"I know, but I want my hair cut above my shoulders."

"Above the shoulders? Are you sure you want that?"

"I think so. I like the curls, but I can handle it better if it's shorter. I can still braid it. What do you think, Daddy?"

Loki hated the idea that his daughter was adapting to Midgardian customs. Even if she was living there, he wanted to be respected as the princess and goddess she was. But after her sudden show of distress followed by her enthusiasm of changing the length of her hair, he could not deny her. Additionally, it was not his hair. Eira could make her own decisions.

"The choice is determined by you," responded Loki. "If it makes you joyful, then I will be content."

Her warm smile returned. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her head against his collarbone.

"Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for making me feel better."

Loki returned the gratitude with a smile. He rubbed her back as she encased his arms around her back.

"Anything for you, my little one. Anything for you."

* * *

The Dwarves in Nidavellir were capable of protecting themselves. Defense was essential for the blacksmithing race, as their powerful weapons were eyed by savage, foreign observers. But when the threat was unpredictable and one of its unexpendable rings was in need of remedying, Asgardian assistance was needed.

Thor had not slept for twenty-six hours, stubborn to observe for threats possibly wanting to damage the weakened ring. The fight itself was not difficult, but his lack of rest lengthed the duration of the battle.

With the battle finished - including a victory for the Nine Realms - Thor desired nothing more than to recuperate in his chambers.

He was excited for rest as he traveled through the Bifröst. Stepping onto the bridge, he initially guided himself toward the palace, but Heimdall interrupted his pacing. Eira had abruptly returned to Asgard, and SHIELD had fallen soon after.

He lifted Mjolnir and flew to the castle, leaving behind Sif and Hogunn. Marching past the servants and the greetings of nobles, he was in search of Eira's chambers.

"Eira!" he shouted as he opened her door without knocking. "Eira! Where are you?"

His gaze rebounded to his niece, sitting on her bed. Her stance straightened when he accosted into her chambers, the book she held fell onto her lap, the bowl of lefse traveled a centimeter in the air before settling next to her. The black braids, once behind her back, leaped and descended on her shoulders.

"Oh, thank Valhalla," spoke Thor with relief, rapidly approaching Eira and lifting her into an embrace. "Heimdall told me what happened. Excuse my brash behavior, I was thinking of the worst. I am beyond joyful that no harm has come to you."

"Uh, I'm okay, Uncle Thor," she responded with hesitation, the awkward stance of her body - her back curled, her weight supported by her toes - causing difficulty in her ability to speak. "Um, can you please put me down? I'm uncomfortable."

Thor lifted her and settled her on the bed. She adjusted her stance, putting her leg on the ledge.

"Heimdall rescued me right before a boogy hit the building we were in. Did he tell you if Steve and Natasha are okay?"

"He said that SHIELD has been disbanded. Steve has been injured but is being healed. I don't know if the Avengers are still in formation. We operated under SHIELD authority though we did act without their permission during our first mission."

"You and your team can still fight without SHIELD. Who else will protect the Midgardians?"

Thor grinned proudly. "Glad to see how passionate you are about defending the Realms. Such a compassionate princess."

She tilted her head with her mother's smile. "It's my duty as a princess. You really shouldn't be surprised."

"That I should not. Well, I have to report to the All-Father. Probably have to apologize to Sif and Hogunn for leaving them without reasoning on the Bifröst. I'll pester you later."

Eira sighed. "Of course you will. Every adult does that with me. Do you want a piece of lefse before you go?"

"Why not. I haven't eaten in hours, so it should not quell my hunger, but some form of food would soothe me for an hour or two."

"You didn't have to explain. I was just being nice."

"You really did inherit your father's personality."

* * *

"How is my favorite fossil doing?"

Steve sighed from his hospital bed as Natasha walked into the room. Sam extended his arm toward the speaker, turning down the volume, "Life is a Gamble" by Marvin Gaye playing at a lower intensity throughout the room.

"This young fossil is healing. How was your trip to Capitol Hill?" Steve questioned.

"The politicians on the committee suggested that my history makes me a criminal, and maybe my imprisonment would create relief.. I may or may not have told them the equivalent of 'fuck off.'"

"I was hoping you would do something like that," commented Sam.

Steve laughed before sobering. "Did they want to know where I was?"

"They did, but I told them it shouldn't matter. You'll make a public appearance when you are ready."

"Thanks, Nat."

The soldier shifted his head and leaned toward the table to his side. He grabbed a note, holding it up for Natasha to grasp.

"Eira made it back safely to Asgard, and apparently Loki heard about what happened. He sent us a letter while you were at the Capitol."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, curious to the contents of the note. The beige, bamboo-like texture hit her fingers. The letter was folded but it strived to stay open, probably unsealed unsealed and read by Steve earlier. The smooth strides of the pen caught her attention - the penmanship of Loki was remarkable - her focus then translocated to the words themselves.

_To the Midgardians caring for my daughter:_

_Remember the time where you and my family agreed Midgard was the safest place for Eira. Maybe they should have considered the possibility that the very organization you work under has been corrupt since its origin. Perhaps all creatures are inadequate._

_Excuse my short tangent; I was jesting to myself._

_Disregarding my bitter sentiments toward you Avengers, I must thank you for protecting my daughter. You choose not to leave her behind in the clutches of your compromised organization. She can protect herself, but I sleep better at night when I am certain that her safety is secure. You took every precaution for her wellbeing. If you had not, you would have assuredly felt my wrath._

_Eira is residing in the palace, concerned if you succeeded in defeating Hydra. Thor spent most of his afternoon comforting her and eyeing her for any scratches. He will probably visit you sometime soon, as Eira will presumably return to Earth in a day or two. Despite the recent events, Midgard is still the safest of the realms. Know that the moment her safety is threatened, I will take her with me._

_Continue to care for my daughter. She eagerly awaits seeing each of you in good health._

_This will be the only time I will thank you._

"Loki does a good job at being threatening in his letters," Natasha spoke after reading. She folded the letter and put it in her pocket. "Who will she be staying with?"

"I'm letting Steve stay at my place," interrupted Sam. "Since I wasn't involved with SHIELD, my information was not leaked. No one knows my address. Eira can stay with us. You both told me about her a day ago. She's just a kid, well, a kid with powers, but it wouldn't be right of me to deny her shelter."

"Thank you, Sam. I have things to take care of. She would not be safe with me."

"We'll take good care of her," said Steve, stretching his back against the bed frame. "Did any of the SHIELD files mention her?"

Natasha sighed before answering. "A file about Loki from 2012 involved details of his family. One of the bulletpoints said 'has a young daughter'. The Internet is currently trying to figure the whereabouts of her. That will be difficult, since her name is not mentioned in any of the files or any database on Earth. That is the only digital file she is referenced in. Paper files, however..."

"SHIELD and Hydra had files not leaked."

"Some reports were written by hand and not transferred electronically. Fury made sure any mention of her was located in physical transcripts. But the files about her - Fury had no involvement - were written by SHIELD higher ups (either dead or arrested) that wanted to… wanted to use her powers. They wanted to study her."

"Jesus," Sam breathed. Steve was silent, wondering how an organization tasked with protecting innocence had intentions of studying a little girl without her consent.

"Eira is a child," he gritted through shut teeth. "So what if her father is Loki? That wasn't her choice. She can practice her magic in peace. She doesn't want to harm anyone, and yet they planned to use her as a weapon."

"A weapon or a possible agent. Either way it feels wrong. She does want to help people, but they are probably gonna force her to work for them. Complete any missions they want even if she doesn't think it's right. Eira is an alien half-breed, so they were probably curious about her biology."

"Those people can't reach her, right?"

"No. All the agents who wrote those reports were part of Hydra. Most are dead while the others are arrested. If they try to tell anyone about her, we can send one of us to silence them."

The three sat in muteness, struggling to change the topic of conversation from the abuse of Eira's powers to anything else. "Deep In It" echoed through the room; that didn't fit the mood, but doing a simple action felt wrong.

"Sorry to ruin the mood," Natasha broke the silence. "I didn't intend to make you feel worse, but I thought you should know."

"Thanks for telling me," responded Steve. "So you have some things to cover up?"

"I'm fixing what I can here. I heard that you'll be out of here tomorrow. Fury wants to meet us by his grave. Can you make it?"

Steve grinned. "I don't have anything else going on."

"Then I'll see you then."

Natasha exited the room. Steve turned to Sam and glanced at the speaker.

"Do you mind going back to the last song?" he requested. "I couldn't hear it due to the conversation."

"No problem man."

Sam clicked a button, immediately changing the song to the previous one.

"You were right, Sam. This is a pretty good album."

"You can't lie about quality when it comes to Marvin Gaye," said Sam with a smile.

* * *

The leaves of an oak tree provided shade for Eira and Sam despite the early January weather offering little sunlight. Eira laid her back against the bark while Sam sat ninety degrees from her, his back opposing Steve, glancing at the graves nearby.

"How did you make those wings of yours by yourself," Eira asked Sam.

"I took my engineering classes in high school very seriously," answered Sam. "I started building them in my free time while in the academy. My higher-ups noticed and gave me the materials to make it better, let me use them on missions with my pal Riley."

His tone saddened upon mentioning Riley. Eira was curious as to who Riley was, but she sensed that the man might have been a sensitive subject for Sam, so she said nothing. She decided to maintain the focus on his Falcon uniform.

"Can you show me your costume?" she asked.

"Well I have to make a lot of repairs to the left wing, and I want to adjust the color. I can show you when I'm done. In exchange, you can demonstrate some of your magic for me."

"I would gladly show you," her head lifted with glee. "Steve and Natasha haven't let me practice my magic for them."

"We've been getting to know each other for the past month," interrupted Steve. "I would have let you soon if that's what you wanted."

Eira giggled with her eyes shut. As they opened, she saw an African-American man wearing a dark hood and sunglasses. Sam noticed the man and stood up as his eyes sparked in recognition. She tilted her head, attempting to identify the man. As he approached further, Eira validated his facial structure. Fury, she soon realized.

Fury spoke to Steve, Sam standing by the soldier with his arms crossed. They looked at his grave before Fury explained his future plans.

"I wish I was still your age so I wouldn't have to listen to his boring business talk," spoke Natasha, walking toward Eira with a jacket in her hold.

"Natasha! Where have you been?"

"I've been prepping for my flight," she answered. "Thinking about what to do for the next few months."

"Wait, you're leaving?"

"When SHIELD fell, all of my information was leaked. I have to clean up some things before I come back. Don't worry, you'll stay with Steve at Sam's place. You guys will probably move to New York in a few months under the security of Stark."

"Oh, okay. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Eira. The past few weeks without you have been a lot of fun. Be ready for when I return, we'll have a lot to catch up on."

"Alright," Eira responded with a smile.

Nat walked toward Sam and Steve the same moment Fury approached her. He knelt down, pointing at his grave.

"Anybody asks for me," he stated. "Tell them they can find me right here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave comments, reviews, or suggestions!


	12. Secrets in the Snowflakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a small break to focus on life and decided to have fun with the format. I included three short stories sharing a theme. Throughout my break, I though of multiple other short stories involving Loki and his family. I might include them in future chapters if they are liked.
> 
> Enjoy!

The technology of Midgardian surpassed that of Asgard in recent decades. Developments in communication, transportation, and electronics were beyond adequate. Thor remembered his visit to Midgard sometime in the 15th century, the Scandavians, along with their lack of knowledge of medicine and housing, were amazed by their presence. Centuries later, memories of those moments only regarded through children's books until Loki decided to wreak havoc on a small New Mexico town and later Manhattan. Perhaps it explained his indifference and ignorance to modern, Earthly technology during an emergency meeting at Stark Tower.

Thor knew that the sudden downfall of SHIELD was a result of its lifelong compromised state, but was clueless to the consequences of leaked files.

"How many humans can get access to these documents?" Thor questioned with jest.

"Any human with access to the Internet," Bruce answered, almost under-shadowed by Tony's loud sigh. "Natasha uploaded these to expose and incriminate Hydra agents within SHIELD. But doing so uncovered almost all of SHIELD's history and activity. A lot of information about all of us was released."

"What types of information?" the god pondered.

"Anything that was digitally uploaded," stated Clint. "Our history, footage of our battles and the reports made about them. It will take some time for the press to discover everything from those files."

"Are any of us in danger?"

"Physically? No," said Tony. "Each of us are extremely capable of protecting ourselves from anyone angered by the files. Though some of us may get backlash for our previous actions and statements. People may lose their trust in the Avengers. Though you, Point Break, should be fine. Most stuff leaked about you involved protecting innocence and sacrificing yourself. Consider yourself lucky that you're not of Earth."

"Was there…" Thor gulped, nervous as to the answer of his preceding question. "Was there any mention of my family?"

"There were a lot of files detailing Loki's visit to Earth," answered Steve. "One detail mentioned that he has a young daughter, but it did not state Eira's name or whereabouts. So far, we haven't seen any major discussions about it. Even if that happens, no one will know where to find her. Eira is safe. Don't worry, Thor."

Thor gripped the edges of the table, careful not to break it and be a victim of Stark's complaining. He sighed before pondering further. "Was there any reference to her in my files?"

"None. She was only mentioned in a report about your brother. Not all of SHIELD's files were released, and even if they were uncovered, Eira would still be safe. Only one or two agents knew about her. She'll be fine."

"Sorry about my insistence on these issues," said Thor, his hands letting go from the table, his stance relaxed. "I still don't completely understand modern Midgardian technology."

"That's alright. Eira's in the other room. Why don't you send time with her while the rest of us discuss the leaks. You already have to worry about the other realms, so let us handle Earth."

"I shall do so. Thank you, Rogers."

Thor put his hand on Steve's shoulder. Steve responded with a grin and nod, lying well for the first time in his life.

_Is it a lie if a wasn't revealing the entire truth to Thor?_ Steve thought as the god's hand lifted itself from his shoulder. _Wait, I think that is the definition of a lie. Is this how Natasha feels?_

As Thor exited the conference room, passages from Eira's written file came to mind. First was the basic physical descriptions, then a brief explanation of her known powers, provided by observations from Steve and Natasha. He hated the thought that he might have accidentally assisted corrupted SHIELD agents into forming their plans to utilize Eira's powers. When Natasha handed him the physical file, the opening sections were harmless, but he then remembered reading further. The feeling of his eyes widening as he read that some wanted samples of her blood were reimagined; they wanted to study her, perhaps without her consent.

Anything beyond human or not of Earthly origin were designated as threats by SHIELD. Steve understood their reasons, as it was natural to be wary of the unknown. But Eira was seven when she arrived on Earth for the first time. She was not her father, she had no intentions of causing danger. The extent of her powers were indeterminate and developing, but with the proper assistance, she could manage her abilities. So why did SHIELD - technically Hydra since all of the agents involved in her file were associated with the criminal organization - want to use and study her for their own gain? Eira definitely desired to help others, but through force and manipulation, Hydra could have corrupted her.

The world had already watched the sudden fall of a powerful government surveillance agency, so surely they would be exhausted by the possible rampage of Thor, caused by him being aware of the hostility toward his adolescent niece.

Steve would discuss the consequences of the leaked files and the paper reports of Eira and Bucky. He would tell Thor one day, he convinced himself.

* * *

Four days prior, Eira was excited for her first trip to New York City. She heard many stories about the populous city from her father and uncle and to see its wonders for herself. Steve invited her to Stark Tower, allowing her to explore the permitted floors while he discussed the consequences of the fall of SHIELD with the Avengers, now without a government organization to observe them. Afterward, she could converse with her uncle. Sam offered to watch her while Steve was away, but the Captain did not want to stress his friend with a demigoddess he had met days earlier.

Those feelings and intentions were forgotten the afternoon before she left.

Shortly after lunch her energy was lacking. Steve assumed it was a result of the three servings of ramen noodles she ate. Worrisome arose when she sat on the couch, her head lazily against the cushions, she commented about the high temperature of her ears. Steve stood from his chair at the kitchen table as he placed down the newspaper; facing Eira, he saw that the veins in her eyes were more pronounced and, strangely, more azure.

Fevers were a common occurrence in every species. Asgardian children developed fevers like Midgardians: higher than average body temperature, low energy, coughing. Though a child of both Aesir and Jotnar blood had unknown symptoms of illnesses. The unnatural heat from her body made her more exhausted than the usual child. The veins of her eyes were red, but sometimes sickness went beyond the glamour, and were therefore a deep blue.

A scant number of traits of Frost Giants could not be hidden with glamour. As Loko grew, his adoptive family noted his slightly pointed molars, his preference for cold temperatures, and his appetite, not needing as many calories as an Asgardian. Eira shared the sharp teeth and liking to chilly winds as her Jotunn father, though her hefty appetite was inherited from her Asgardian mother.

Eira slept in her bed in the guest room for the remainder of the afternoon. Steve packed her clothing in a suitcase and entertainment for the car in her backpack. Sam made her a cold turkey sandwich as a snack, telling her stories from his time in the army to brighten her mood. Between moments of sassy comments about the behavior of his comrades, Eira gave a light smile.

Although her body was tired, Eira had trouble falling asleep.

Loki appeared that night disheveled, worry directed toward his ill daughter. Her last bout of sickness was four and a half years ago. At two and a half, Eira's body shook with the abnormal amount of heat within. Loki held her hands as the healers inspected her, offering her comfort for her first unplanned doctor's visit. As she laid in bed, eyes fluttering, her head settled on his lap, Loki stroked her hair, telling her tales to guide her into blissful slumber. The next morning, she awoke with only light sniffles.

But that was before Loki learned of his true race and Eira's status as a half-breed. Knowing the truth and discovering that this round of sickness was worse than the previous, Loki arrived as soon as she was wished a good night by Steve. He originally noticed her eyes, the blue veins surrounding her irises more accentuated, and her breaths, heavy with heat.

Despite her weakened stamina, Eira responded to her father's presence with a smile.

She wanted to talk, describe her event-lacking day, but Loki wished for her to relax. The night was spent with Eira lazily opening and closing her eyes, grinning at Loki's tales of battle as he, like he did when she was a toddler, stroked her raven curls.

Sleep consumed her body for the night and continued during the car ride to New York. Steve drove and occasionally adjusted the mirror to observe the tranquil state of Eira. She awoke for brief moments, staring at the flat, grassy landscape, the music on the radio luring her into slumber.

Some symptoms of her illness subsided, allowing her body to be conscious during the last hour of the ride. Her jade eyes gazed in awe at the large buildings, multitude of cars, and diversity among those walking along the sidewalk.

" _Has your uncle mentioned Tony Stark, Iron Man?"_ Eira remembered her father asking her during his story-telling sessions while he resided in his prison cell. " _Thor probably focused on his intelligence, but his ego is his most noticeable trait. His hubris is taller than him. New York City is large, yet Stark somehow made the tallest tower, and to further demonstrate his vanity, his name was once plastered in the largest font possible."_

Those words echoed through her mind the tallest of buildings, surrounded by simple workplaces and apartment complexes. Like Loki said, his name was almost gone from the top, though the 'a' remained.

She recognized the bitter attitude Loki had whenever he spoke about the Avengers. She highly respected him, but she was unsure if she could trust his views of the man of iron.

The car stopped, the light red. Steve leaned into his seat, glancing at his windows. "Damn your ego, Tony," Eira heard Steve speak under his breath. She giggled from her seat. Steve quickly turned to Eira with a smile; her first giggle since the sickness began.

Despite her energy returning, Eira still had difficulty concentrating. _A Wrinkle in Time_ laid in her backpack, she knew. The green-striped bookmark between the end of the fifth chapter and the beginning of the sixth ran through her mind. Her yearning for literature battled with her exhaustion, causing her to stare at nothing as she sat on the couch in the common room.

Loki wanted to comfort and speak with his daughter during her first visit to Stark Tower but he could not risk being seen by the advanced security cameras. At a time where he was not busy organizing peace among the Nine Realms, he would analyze the cameras and Jarvis, developing his magic so the mortal surveillance systems could not notice his presence and the false realities he created as he spoke with Eira.

During her unfocused gaze, the sound of burly footsteps entered her ears. Her stance straightened, the recognition of those strides energizing her. She turned her head, looking for her uncle, who quickly entered her view.

"Eira, there you are!" Thor beamed, walking over to Eira. "How glad I am to see you!"

"Hi, Uncle Thor," greeted Eira. "Is the meeting over?"

"My lack of understanding toward Midgardian technology added difficulty in understanding these declassified documents," responded Thor as he sat next to his niece. "My fellow Avengers told me about the files involving myself and our family before allowing me to leave so I could spend quality time with you."

"The meeting was boring, wasn't it."

The god laughed. "It indeed was. Most meetings are, even if the purposes of the gathering are important. And I was more concerned about you."

"This isn't the first time I've been sick," Eira said with a frown.

"I know, Eira. That still does not erase my worry. I want you to feel healthy."

"I'm doing better today, but I don't feel that great."

"You should relax; this wave of sickness will end sooner if you do not exert yourself too much. The herbal teas should help too."

"Steve made me some this morning. It was good, but he doesn't make it as well as Daddy and Grandma."

"Both magic and tea have healing attributes, so it's natural that they have high tea-making skills. Has your… Has your father interacted with you since our last meeting."

"No," Eira lied. "Though he did give me a letter this morning. He knows I'm sick and gave me tea packets. It was very nice of him."

Thor eyed Eira, looking for any evidence of lies. He noted the swinging of her legs and her neutral expression. No evidence of lying.

He could push further, but adding distress when she was already ill was not the best action.

"Change of subject," stated Thor. "I heard that you were considering cutting your hair."

"Yes," she said with glee. "I know Asgardians like to have their hair long, but my curly hair is hard to control. Daddy could brush and braid it well, and since he's not here and no one else is like him, so it might be best that someone cuts it."

"Your hair is truly something unique. Although cutting it may contradict with our culture, if you want to do it, then I shall not stop you."

"Thank you, uncle."

Thor pulled his niece closer to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I spoke with your grandfather before I arrived. Nothing dire has arisen, so I thought we could spend the day together."

"Really? But I'm sick, so we can't go outside."

"We can spend our time together by talking in Stark's residence. I haven't spoken to you since you left Asgard. We have some catching up to do."

"I think I can do that…"

Eira's speech slurred. Thor looked at her concerned, scanning her face for any irregularities or signs of increased illness. Her eyes were focused on the walls, every centimeter covered with a window. They were repaired from two years ago, no markings of Loki throwing Tony out of his own tower.

White flakes were falling outside the tower. The flakes were snow, Thor determined after noticing that they were thin in shape. Weather in Midgardian varied depending on the region, he remembered from his schooling years.

"What is that?" Eira asked, her head tilted to emphasize her confusion.

"It's snow," Thor answered. "Its occurrence is common on Midgard during the winter."

The disarray did not diminish from her face, making Thor realize that she had never seen snow before. It never snowed on Asgard, so it was only natural for an Asgardian to be bewildered by its appearance. Thor first witnessed it a mere four years ago. Memories of his visit to Jotunheim with Loki and their friends came. No perplexed feelings arose, as his anger for the Frost Giants invalidated it.

He turned the homeland of his brother into a battlefield. Perhaps Loki saw snow for the first time since he was abandoned a thousand years ago when he was a small, defenseless infant. Eira never had the opportunity to witness the origins of half of her blood. The Asgardian ways and prejudices melded into the minds of both father and daughter; a simple situation in Jotunheim was foreign to them.

"I've never seen it before," stated Eira as she moved off the couch, walking to the window to get a better view of the weather. "I have read about snow in books, but it wasn't like this."

"You never know what something is like until you witness it yourself," Thor said as he stood next to her. "The occurrence of snow falling is rather simple, but seeing it for the first time, it felt wondrous. I was grown, seen battles and blissful wonders, but the snow itself was magnificent."

Eira placed her hand on the window, a wide, exhilarant smile as she observed the snow slowly fall from the blue, almost grey sky.

"It's beautiful," she spoke.

Thor knelt, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Oh how glad I am to see you smile, Eira."

A giggle left her lips.

"Me too, Uncle Thor."

* * *

Having reading a hobby for over a thousand years affected how Loki remembered events. He told stories through an outside perspective that understood everyone's thoughts; his skill at analyzing facial expressions and body movements in relation to emotions. Sometimes he wondered if the same quirk would be passed down to Eira.

When he was younger, he would write eventful days in a spare journal before going to bed. By the time he turned fifty and was accepting more royal and political responsibilities, the pages emptied.

He occasionally considered writing again whenever he entered a new romance, finished a vigorous battle, or argued with Thor. Those ideas never went through. New responsibilities arrived, erasing the temptations.

Then came the impending news that he would become a father. The joyous and terrifying thoughts of fatherhood overflooded, but the water never reached his fingers. The sudden duty of single parenthood came months later, when he was only a young adult (the equivalent of nineteen in human years.) Whatever time was not spent raising Eira alone, Loki was completing his royal duties and caring for himself.

Loki never stopped himself from reflecting on prior events with a story-like tone.

Once Loki learned of his true origins, a tragic mood engulfed most of his tales.

**Chamber of Fangs**

**(Inspired by the fan comic _Pointed Teeth_ by Wondy)**

Being the younger of the noble children created many defensive and spiteful traits within Loki. As a toddler, when Thor and the other noble children put him at the end of their jests, Loki reacted with tears. But he was taught that one day, he may obtain the throne. Tears were not appropriate for a future king, so Loki responded to the bullying with his mischievous magic.

Sif was the same age as him and Fandral a year younger, and he hoped that the jests would eventually be directed toward them. But Loki's differences to the personalities of other children prevented his wish.

And now, with a physical difference he observed days ago, he feared the day when the light gags would turn into torment.

At the tender age of six, Loki played with Thor in the outdoor sector of the palace. Both had finished their lunch and had time to spare before returning to the strict atmosphere of the learning hall.

Frigga, finished with a meeting discussing the presence of a little girl, Amora, who had demonstrated a strong magical potential. She wanted to enjoy a light conversation with her sons.

She walked through the halls, two servants behind her, searching for Thor and Loki. As she approached the playing section further, Frigga heard the light footsteps and giggles of her children.

A sudden silence filled the air. The All-Mother was concerned but continued walking.

"Loki! No!" Thor's young voice echoed through the hall. Then a sharp cry.

Frigga increased her pace, lifting her skirt so she could tend to her son's injuries as quickly as possible.

Finally reaching the scene of the crime, Frigga saw Thor, sitting on the grass, holding his arm as blood dripped down. Loki stood across a meter away, a knife with scarlet liquid at its tip. His face was tight with anger, his pants traveling through his entire body. Thor was sniffling. Holding back his tears, Frigga deduced. She would have to discuss this with Odin later.

"Thor!" the queen yelled with concern, running and then kneeling down to access his injuries. "Show me your injury. I can stop the blood."

"Alright, Mummy," spoke Thor as he winced.

Her hand hovered over the cut. A minor scrap but the blood kept dripping. With a green glow, her magic sealed the wound.

She glanced at Loki, his eyes cast down in shame of being caught. There was a story behind this.

"Take Thor to his chambers," commanded Frigga to the servants. "Call for his nurse and tell her to bring damages."

She kissed Thor's forehead before guiding him to the servants. Sighing, she approached Loki, grabbing the knife from his hand without a hint of struggle.

"I don't remember teaching you to make weapons," she commented. Loki still looked at the grass.

"Loki," she spoke softly yet sternly. "Why did you hurt your brother?" Silence from her youngest. "There's a reason for everything we do, my son. I know you did not attack Thor without reason."

"He made fun of my teeth," Loki answered with a whisper.

Well that was not the answer she expected.

"He made fun of my teeth because they're sharp," he continued. "Thor made a joke about how sharp the back of my teeth are. He said that I must be a monster for having pointy teeth."

Tears spilled down his cheeks, his hands clenching as his body shook. Frigga pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back as she considered the best approach to lying.

Frigga assumed that his origin as a Frost Giant might cause some personality differences to Aesir children. The glamour concealed the physical differences, but she recognized the chance that one or two Jotnar traits would sneak through.

The sharp molars surpassed the boundaries of the glamour, possibly exposing a secret she and Odin desperately wanted to remain hidden.

"Sharp teeth are not unusual, my son," she answered. "Like you, I had pointy teeth. Though as time progressed the back of my teeth flattened. Do not worry, Loki. You are not a monster."

"Really?" he responded with a sniffle. "You had pointy teeth? When will they go away?"

"Soon, my son. Soon," lied Frigga with ease.

Dishonesty was not the best feeling, as it often spread a sense of guilt within her chest. At this moment, the negative flow was emphasized by Loki's smile. Like always, he believed her lies.

Nights later, she and her husband carried Loki from his bed. As she stroked his raven locks, Odin's hand hovered over his mouth.

Weeks later, Loki ran up to Frigga with overwhelming glee, announcing that one tooth had flattened.

Loki remembered his day as a bonding moment with his mother. But an eon later, as he lay in the bed in his chambers provided by Thanos, the effects of the Mind Stone amplified his disdain and brought back the memory. Frigga's comforts were replayed. recalling the effortlessness in how she lied, Loki stood from his bed and punched a hole in the wall.

His magic fixed the minor cuts. The blood on the sharp edges of the wall remained.

**If the Truth Was Known, Then Maybe She Would Be Here**

With a childhood full of lies, it was not a surprise that Loki became skilled at lying himself once he reached adulthood. He embraced mischief and took hiding his emotions as second nature. An eon later, those traits strongly developed, yet he could not notice the lies his parents fed to him.

Perhaps, if his youth was not encumbered with half-truths, reinforced by the motherly or fatherly tones, he would have less physiological distress.

The lies were meant to be harmless: served to protect Loki from prejudice and secure his position as a child of royal Asgardian blood.

Odin and Frigga knew that one day, their youngest son might find love and start a family. They assumed it would take a little over two thousand years, and during that time they could research the development of a half-Jotunn, half-Asgardian child and how to protect the mother carrying the child.

Their predictions were off by a thousand years.

The result? That could be demonstrated by Loki slumbering in his chambers. He laid on his bed, only one side occupied; the other side once contained the presence of his lover, who sacrificed her life for the infant that slept in the cradle by the foot of Loki's bed.

Fed a mere thirty minutes ago, baby Eira slept in a tranquil state, blissfully unaware of her father's stoic panic as he laid on his bed. For the past two weeks, sleep was not a common occurrence for Loki, and although he wanted it, his thoughts prevented slumber.

The back of his head against the pillow, Loki looked up at the ceiling.

At just a little over one thousand, Loki should have been preparing to increase his political responsibilities and proving his leadership skills while maintaining the young adult mentality of being carefree. His friendships would become either more secure or deteriorate. Maybe explore a relationship or two. Find his true self.

Despite the last two years breaking that stride, Loki was happy. He started a romantic relationship with Runa, soon discovering that she was the love of his life. Then he got her pregnant months in. The initial fear of accidentally impregnating Runa was soon replaced with determination. A sudden, stubborn determination to raise the child with Runa's approval, even if his family was disappointed. After his family displaced their excitement over having a grandchild, even if it occurred earlier than expected.

The pregnancy was difficult, but Loki and Runa thought they would become a family after the birth of their daughter.

Maybe if the expecting couple knew the truth and could possibly discover a method for the safest birth, then their family would not have lost a member soon after gaining one.

"WAAAAAHHH!"

Loki sat up, his stance stiffening. Pulling himself off the bed, he questioned the reason behind Eira's cries, as it made no sense why she would be upset after her hunger needs were met less than an hour ago. Her wails were tamer than usual, so perhaps her problem was not serious. Though since she was only fifteen days old, the issue had to be solved by Loki.

"What is the matter, Eira?" he questioned as he lifted Eira into his hold, not expecting an answer other than more tears; though Loki knew that talking to her was good for her development. "You can't possibly need a change, nor could you be hungry."

He returned to his bed, relaxing his back against the headrest, his grip on Eira firm yet gentle. Rhythmic whines replaced her cries. Loki brushed her tears away with a gentle stroke of his finger, preventing them from staining her face.

"You probably woke up and were scared," stated Loki. "If only you could go to sleep by yourself. Then maybe I could get some sleep. Maybe give Daddy a break. If only you could understand."

Caring for a newborn alone while processing his grief was a difficult task. Everyday Loki wanted to burst into tears, be alone in his thoughts as memories of his time with Runa replayed in his mind.

Sometimes he did. Whenever Eira was fast asleep and he was sure that the guards outside his chambers could not hear his grief, he sat in his bathtub, either reflecting in silence, letting a few tears fall, or sobbing for a few moments.

Loki composed a calm expression when his friends attempted to comfort him. Their pitiful expressions aggravated him. Their baseless offers to help him with whatever Their consoles of "I am sorry for your loss" and "I understand it must be difficult for you" were ineffective.

_Oh really,_ he often thought when those phrases were spoken to him. _You understand the wave of feelings when your daughter is born and your lover dies minutes after? The initial excitement of becoming a family destroyed by the realization that your child will never have any memories of her mother? That every part of parenting her is now weighed on your shoulders? Yes, surely everyone has felt this way._

He could never speak it aloud to someone, as he could imagine their offended faces, even the extremely unlikely chance that Eira would be taken away from him. Risking losing his daughter was one he would never take.

"It's rather unfair, isn't it," Loki spoke to Eira. "Your mother carried you despite the obstacles and loved you before you were born. She should be here, holding you, feeding you."

He could not figure out why, but he felt some guilt for causing Runa much physical and emotional distress during her final months. A sudden, troublesome pregnancy that he induced yet he watched the consequences fall on Runa.

Eira let out a sudden sob, kicking her legs covered in the fabric of a purple silk onesie.

"I'm sorry, my little one," Loki apologized as he bounced her. "I shouldn't grieve around you. Despite the circumstances, you are a gift. Others may call you a mistake, but I would call you the miracle I never knew I needed. Oh how glad I am that you are here."

Grieving was a natural process, he acknowledged. He could have spent his days refusing to see anyone, crying alone and lashing out at those who attempted to lure him out. He easily could have chosen to remain in sentimental anguish for the rest of his life.

But there was a little girl, who slept beside him every night, that needed him. A defenseless being, unaware about every aspect of life, who required attention at every moment. His daughter, the very daughter Runa gave up her soul for, was his responsibility, the representation of his love for Runa. Ignoring Eira would be a disgrace to Runa and severely undermine her sacrifice.

"Don't worry about me," Loki whispered to his wary daughter. "You, my darling, are motivating me to live. Me and your mother knew there would be struggles raising you when we ourselves were so young, but we prepared ourselves for the ups and downs. She wouldn't want me to remain in my sorrows. As she stays in Valhalla, she is already proud of you. I'll do everything I can to expand her pride."

Eira raised her arm, opening and closing her fist. Loki stroked her fist with his finger, which his daughter grasped, lightly tugging on it as she gurgled. In the depressing darkness, Loki smiled, lighting the room and brightening the stars.

"I know everyone in the palace will do their best to bring you joy. I've seen the warmth in the eyes of my family and friends, they would do anything for you."

The princess whined, leaning her head against her father's chest in frustrated exhaustion. Loki laughed before rocking her.

"Sleep, Eira. Your body needs it. Will it make you feel better if I let you sleep with me? Maybe then you will not cry thirty minutes from now. Might help me sleep as well."

Eira let out a yawn, her limbs squirming before they relaxed. As her green eyes shut, Loki released a similar yawn and fluttered his eyes.

**Easing the Pain, a Reminder of Myself**

The sleeping schedule of an infant is uneven. Their mood and forever-changing adjustments to the world around them altered how they slept. Since their parents or guardians were the ones responsible for soothing and raising, their sleep was also unbalanced.

When Runa discovered she was pregnant, she and Loki had six months to prepare for the struggles of sleep deprivation. Loki was not prepared for performing this task alone.

In her first two months, Eira awoke every three hours or so, sometimes less if she randomly woke up, frustrated about her inability to fall back asleep without assistance. Once she recognized the scent and appearance of Loki, she cried more for him. Though the over-attachment increased the periods in which she rested.

And then her teeth began to grow in. Never mind, it was a tooth. Her teeth grew one tooth at a time.

As a tooth surged its way through Eira's gums, the princess was constantly feeling pain. Typically during the day, Loki rarely woke up to screams and instead cuddled his daughter and gave her soft toys to soothe the pain.

But her tooth decided to cause her anguish today.

"Shhhhhh. Eira, I know it hurts. Daddy is doing everything he can."

Six-month-old had her stomach against Loki's chest. He gave light pats to her back as he searched through her bin of toys, not allowing her screaming to hinder his retrieval. He heard the echoing, high-pitched ring growing as her wails continued right near his ear. If he wasn't a parent, then he would have given the distressed being to someone else.

Loki sighed when he grabbed a tiny silicone ring, perfect to relieve some of her pain. As he walked to the rocking chair in the corner of his chambers, he glanced at his distressed daughter, her tears now starting to stain her bayadere - composed of yellow and marigold stripes - onesie.

"Alright, Eira," he said as he sat down, placing Eira on his lap. "Here you go."

Handing her the ring, he held it near her mouth. Eira first laid a hand on his before the other grasped the ring, soon putting it in her mouth. Loki attempted to remove his hand but then returned it once he saw Eira kick her legs in displeasure.

"I'm not going anywhere, Eira," he jested as his daughter leaned her head against his chest, tears landing on his nightwear. "I will stay with you until the soreness stops and you fall asleep. I promise."

Eira looked up at him as if making sure he was keeping his promise. Her unconditional love warmed Loki's heart. She was his flesh and blood and both loved one another, which made seeing her in such pain distressingly harrowing. His little girl was perfect and deserved the best, not such physical anguish.

Single fatherhood had softened him, and he was content with that.

Stroking her onyx curls, he wondered if her future teeth would grow like his. He remembered his sharp molars, closely resembling fangs, and the embarrassment he felt.

What if Eira felt the same way when she became older? What if other children noticed and made jokes about physical features?

No, Loki would not allow that. He would not witness his daughter feel unwelcomed like he did during his youth. As she grew, Loki would make sure she was respected by everyone. Despite being the illegitimate daughter of young parents, she was a perfect princess, deserving of all the love and honor her subjects could give her.

The tears stopped falling, though Loki could tell that Eira was still in distress. He smiled as he tickled her foot, causing his daughter to laugh, the ring still in her mouth. Loki laughed with her.

"You are perfect, my little one. I will give you the best."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to live suggestions for possible short stories I can include. Or maybe it would be best for these to be in a separate story collection within the series. Tell me what you think!
> 
> Also, I must give credit to the inspiration behind one of my short stories. Here is a link to the fantastic comic (https://wandawondy.tumblr.com/post/173409336830/i-posted-it-on-pixiv-for-years-ago-but-someone).


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